


the only thing stronger than my head is my heart

by andtimestoodstill



Series: i swear to god the devil made me do it [8]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst with a Happy Ending, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Ronan Lynch, a truly astonishing misuse of italics and parentheses, adam parrish loves frosted flakes, i dont know where all the angst came from, now with a POV adam chapter bc the author is trash, ronan lynch loves adam's underwear, seriously there is so much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2020-11-27 13:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20948804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andtimestoodstill/pseuds/andtimestoodstill
Summary: “I hate this,” Adam said from his side of the bed.Ronan looked up from his suitcase, hands stilling their movements. “What? Me folding my clothes? I can do it, you know; I just don’t like to.” He had aimed for levity, but Adam didn’t even crack a smile.“You know what I mean.”Ronan sighed and pushed the suitcase towards the foot of the bed, sidling up next to his boyfriend. “I know. Me too. But—”“It’s your mom. You have to go. I know. I just don’t like it.” Adam had shuffled closer to Ronan, slipping an arm around his waist. Ronan pulled Adam against himself even tighter, dropping a kiss to the top of his sandy head.“Two weeks. I’m gonna come back up in two weeks.”“But not for good,” Adam said into Ronan’s shirt. He sounded miserable.(In which Adam and Ronan have to endure long distance in every universe)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from [here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wMfE-Mh_pHE)

“I hate this,” Adam said from his side of the bed.

Ronan looked up from his suitcase, hands stilling their movements. “What? Me folding my clothes? I can do it, you know; I just don’t like to.” He had aimed for levity, but Adam didn’t even crack a smile.

“You know what I mean.”

Ronan sighed and pushed the suitcase towards the foot of the bed, sidling up next to his boyfriend. “I know. Me too. But—”

“It’s your mom. You have to go. I know. I just don’t like it.” Adam had shuffled closer to Ronan, slipping an arm around his waist. Ronan pulled Adam against himself even tighter, dropping a kiss to the top of his sandy head.

“Two weeks. I’m gonna come back up in two weeks.”

“But not for _good_,” Adam said into Ronan’s shirt. He sounded _miserable_.

Ronan didn’t know what to say. Adam was right, he didn’t know when (or hell, even _if_) he would be able to come back for good.

Aurora Lynch had been singlehandedly managing the family farm since Niall had died. After Ronan’s father had passed, they had significantly cut down on the day-to-day responsibilities; selling spare livestock to local farms (and, much to Ronan’s teenage horror, butcher shops) so that Aurora could manage on her own. And she had been, for the most part.

However, a few days ago Ronan’s mother had been walking back to the main house and her foot had gotten stuck in a rogue gopher hole. She had been mostly okay after the accident, but she had ripped multiple ligaments in her left knee. It meant that for the time being (and most likely, the foreseeable future) Aurora would no longer be able to take care of the Barns on her own. And because Declan had a ‘real’ job (_Fuck you, Declan_) and Matthew was still in school, Ronan had agreed to undertake the responsibility of caring for the farm.

“I’m going to miss you,” Ronan said, mostly into Adam’s hair. “So fucking much.”

Adam just pulled him closer. Ronan had to be at LaGuardia (fucking _LaGuardia_. That’s how much he loved his mother) in a few hours, but he didn’t let Adam go.

***

“Jesus, that was the most expensive Uber of my _life_,” Ronan groaned into his phone. He had just arrived at the Barns, his suitcase abandoned in the front hall, shoes kicked off by the door. He had called Adam as he had sprawled out across the couch.

Adam’s laugh from the other end made Ronan’s heart ache. “How was your flight?”

“Fine. Fucking boring. I had an open seat next to me.”

“Nice.” There was a rustling from the other end. Ronan pictured Adam burrowing deeper into their duvet.

“You eat the leftover pasta?”

“Mhm,” Adam hummed sleepily. It was getting late, but Ronan felt wired

“Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you. I’ll go so you can get some sleep.”

“No,” Adam sounded much more awake. “I just,” Ronan could hear the blush in his voice. Even after three years, Adam still felt embarrassed every time he thought he was a little too forthcoming with his feelings. “I’d rather you stay on the line. We don’t have to talk or anything, but it’ll be easier to fall asleep, I think. Like you’re actually here.”

(Ronan was sure Adam could hear his heart breaking all the way from Brooklyn)

“Alright, Parrish,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. “I’ll stay on the line.”

***

Aurora had returned to the Barns a few days later. Declan had taken a week of work off to keep her company while she was at the hospital, driving her back to Singer’s Falls in his boring (_it’s dependable, Ronan_) car.

“Hey, Ma,” Ronan said, leaning into the car to hug his mother. It had only been a few weeks since he had last visited, he and Adam taking advantage of the holiday to come down for Adam’s birthday.

“Ronan, it’s so good to see you.” Aurora squeezed her middle son tightly, pressing a kiss to his shaved head. “Now help me out of this car. I need a nap and I miss my bed.”

“Alright, just be careful.”

“I am not _breakable_, Ronan.”

Ronan chuckled as he helped his mother out of the car, shouldering most of her weight. “Dec, can you get the door?”

“Give me a second,” Declan said from the trunk. Ronan and Aurora made the slow trek to the house. Declan came around them, their mother’s bags in tow. He held open the front door as Ronan practically (and very, very carefully) carried his mother up the front stairs.

Despite how much Aurora missed her own bed, she was going to stay in the downstairs guestroom until she had fully recovered. “Ah, thank you.” She leaned back against the pillows, adjusting the comforter over her body.

“You’ll be alright if I go check on the cows?” Ronan asked from the door.

“Yes, Ronan. Stop hovering. I’m recovering, not an invalid.”

Ronan chuckled under his breath and he dropped a kiss onto his mother’s slowly graying head. “Love you too, Mom.” He left the door cracked open before retreating out of the room.

“She all settled in?” Declan asked as Ronan entered the kitchen.

“Yup,” Ronan poured himself a glass of ice water, wiping the sweat from his brow with his shoulder. “You’re still good to hold down the fort when I go back to New York?”

“Yeah,” Declan was scrolling through his phone. He looked up. “Though is it totally necessary that you go back so soon?”

“It’s my anniversary, Declan.” Ronan huffed out a breath. “I think you’re just jealous that I’ve been in a longer relationship than the rest of yours combined.” Declan just rolled his eyes and went back to his Blackberry. “You gonna stay for dinner? I’m making Mom’s meatloaf.” Declan looked up, squinting at Ronan suspiciously. Mom’s meatloaf was his favorite. Ronan just smiled wolfishly at his brother.

“Sure.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go check on the cows.”

Ronan sauntered out of the house, calling Adam as soon as he stepped out into the fading afternoon light.

“Hey,” Adam said as he answered on the second ring.

Just that one word was enough to settle Ronan. “Hey. Is this an okay time?”

“I mean, probably not. But I don’t really care.”

Ronan laughed. “You still at work?”

“Yeah.” There was a rustle of papers. “We had lunch catered today from that Thai place we went to a few weeks ago.”

“Fuck, I miss the food in New York.”

“Not your boyfriend?”

“Oh, that’s a given.” Ronan moved the phone to his other ear. “But right after you, it’s the food.”

Adam’s low chuckle made Ronan smile widely. “I’m going to tell Gansey that you miss Thai food more than him.”

“Do it. He was getting a little too chummy anyways.” Adam snorted, but didn’t reply. “Mom came home today.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Pretty much the same, I think she’s tired of people coddling her.”

“Ah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?’

“Shut up, Parrish.”

There were a few beats. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, sweetheart.”

(Adam’s sniffle from the other end made Ronan’s heart crack just a little wider)

Ronan needed to change the subject. “Declan’s being his assholey self again.”

“I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Adam said, voice thick. He cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Ronan scratched at the back of his neck. “I wish he was more of an asshole. It would make this whole thing feel more normal.”

“You’re just gonna have to get along with him, I think.”

“But I don’t _wanna_,” Ronan whined. Adam’s laugh was a low, warm thing. Ronan had finally made it to the cows. He reached out to stroke a velvety snout. “You wanna say hi to the cows?”

“_Yes_.”

***

“You want something to drink?” Ronan asked, setting down a plate of lasagna in front of his mother.

“Just some water, please.” She squeezed his hand as he stepped around her. Ronan made his way to the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and then water from the tap. “Ronan!” Aurora called from the dining room. “There’s someone at the door.”

Ronan left the water on the counter, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. He pulled the door open, Adam standing there, a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder.

“Parrish?”

“Hi,” Adam bit at his lower lip. “You’re right, that Uber was really fucking expensive.”

Ronan didn’t respond, pulling Adam into a tight hug instead. Adam dropped his duffle bag, arms circling Ronan’s shoulders. “What are you doing here?”

“I took a half day,” Adam said into Ronan’s shoulder. “I just missed you. So much.”

Ronan pulled back just enough to slide his mouth over Adam’s.

Their kiss could have gone on forever had Aurora not called, “Ronan!” from the dining room. “Who is it?”

“C’mon, Parrish,” Ronan said against Adam’s lips. He stepped backwards, taking Adam’s hand in his. “You will not believe who showed up, Ma.”

“Adam!” Aurora cheered from her seat. Ronan pressed a kiss to Adam’s temple before he went to greet Ronan’s mother properly.

He returned to the kitchen, plating up another serving of lasagna for Adam and taking his mother’s water in his other hand. Ronan stopped in the threshold of the dining room, watching his mother and the love of his life smile and chat with each other so intimately.

“Here, Parrish.” Ronan dropped off the plate and the glass to their respective owners. He dropped a kiss on Adam’s forehead before circling around the table to sit and dig into his own dinner. 

“God, I miss your cooking,” Adam said after his first bite of lasagna.

“That’s why you keep me around, huh?”

“Yup. I’ve kept you around for four years because you make a pretty good lasagna.”

“_Pretty good_?” Ronan pressed his foot against Adam’s under the table. “You hear that, Ma? He called your lasagna _pretty good_.”

“I hate to side with Adam—”

Ronan gasped, shaking his head in disbelief. “This is ridiculous. I will not accept this.”

“It’s very good, love.” She patted Ronan’s hand placatingly. “Just not as good as mine.”

Adam was laughing behind his napkin and Ronan lightly kicked his foot. “It’s not fair for the two of you to gang up on me.”

With a conciliatory smile Adam said, “too bad.”

Later, after Adam had insisted on washing the dishes and Ronan had helped his mother into bed, the two of them were heavily making out on Ronan’s double bed.

“Wait,” Adam said, breathless and a little dazed. Ronan pulled away from the hipbone he had been lavishing with biting kisses. “Is this a good idea?”

They were always a little hesitant to have sex at the Barns, usually resorting to silent and hurried hand jobs when they were feeling a little too randy. Adam (okay, and Ronan) felt weird about getting it on when there were brothers and mothers in hearing distance.

Ronan laughed and tipped his forehead against Adam’s sweaty stomach. “Mom is downstairs, and her pain meds pretty much knock her out.”

“Okay, okay.” Adam brushed his fingers across Ronan’s scalp. “Keep going.”

“As you wish, Parrish.”

***

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, sleepy and warm. He held on to Ronan tighter, trying to keep him from getting up.

“I need to feed the animals,” Ronan replied, fingers prying at Adam’s. He sat up and rubbed at his tired eyes. Adam sat up as well, dropping a kiss on to the space between Ronan’s neck and shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Parrish.”

“Let me help you,” Adam said against his skin. “I’m up anyways.”

Ronan sighed. “Alright. Wear something you’re okay with getting dirty.”

(To Adam, this meant wearing _Ronan’s_ clothes. But whatever, he was kind of fucking adorable in Ronan’s signature black ensemble)

They fed the animals and collected the eggs from the chickens. Ronan paused, watching the way that the early morning light caught in Adam’s dusty hair, turning it into spun gold.

“I’m not gonna kiss you when you’re literally covered in shit,” Adam said with a smirk, watching the way Ronan was watching him.

“Fuck off, Parrish.” Ronan dragged his gaze away, looking up at the house in front of them.

“C’mon, Lynch. I’m starving.” Adam skipped (_skipped_, Ronan was going to have a fucking heart attack) up to the house, toeing his shoes off at the back door. Ronan left his boots by the hose under the porch to be washed off later and followed him inside.

Adam was in the kitchen, scrubbing at his hands in the sink. Ronan watched him, heart aching with how much he missed Adam, even when he was standing right in front of him.

(Why did it _hurt_ so much?)

“You know, I miss your cooking, but you better wash your goddamn hands before you make my breakfast.”

Ronan chuckled under his breath, sidling up to Adam at the sink. “Don’t blaspheme where my mother could hear you.” He pressed a kiss to Adam’s temple. After thoroughly washing his hands he began making breakfast, frying eggs and toasting bread with practiced ease.

Adam watched him over his coffee, a fond smile playing at his lips. “You really like it here, huh?” he asked.

“What?” Ronan glanced up at him. “I mean, yeah. For a long time I thought that this is what I’d be doing for the rest of my life.”

“Really? When was this?”

Ronan buttered a piece of crusty, homemade bread. “Uh, when I graduated from Aglionby, I guess. The only reason I went to Parsons was because my mom wouldn’t let me live with her at the Barns until I had graduated from college.”

“I didn’t know that.” There was an underlying tension to Adam’s tone. “I thought you wanted to come back because this was where you grew up—”

“I changed my mind.” Ronan cut Adam off, not wanting his boyfriend to rile himself up over a nonissue. “When I moved into Monmouth with Gansey and Noah. It was the first place that wasn’t the Barns that had ever felt like home at that point. I like New York, love it even. when I get to be around people I care about.”

(Ronan knew he didn’t have to say it for Adam to get it: _it was you, Parrish_)

Adam bit his lip and set aside his coffee. He walked over to Ronan, beautiful, freckled hands cupping Ronan’s face. “I love you.”

“Love you more,” Ronan turned his head to kiss Adam’s palm. “Let’s eat.”

Aurora woke up just as they were finishing their breakfast, Ronan helping her out of bed and to the bathroom, hovering outside the door in case she needed anything. Adam had cleared away their dishes when he came back to the kitchen, wiping crumbs off the counter with a sponge.

Ronan understood at once what hurt so much about this situation. He was being presented with something he had always wanted but couldn’t have. In his perfect world, this would be his life. He wanted to be at the Barns with his family and the animals and the rolling hills and the night sky full of stars and _Adam_.

But he couldn’t have this.

(Not now, anyways)

Ronan made his mother breakfast in record time, dropping off the plate in front of her at the kitchen table before saying “I need to shower,” and stalking out of the room. He could hear Adam calling after him, but he ignored it.

He let the hot water beat down against his back, head tipped against the ceramic tiles, willing himself not to cry. This was all too much. He wanted to lash out and hurt someone, something, _anything_.

Ronan was not a man of self-control. When faced with the things that he wanted, he took them, no matter the cost. It was why Kavinsky (fucking _Kavinsky_, who Ronan hadn’t seen in almost a _decade_, who Ronan barely thought about _until he couldn’t stop thinking about him_) was such an attractive option. At the height (depth, really. He had been careening towards his rock bottom for so long) of Ronan’s spiral, Kavinsky was the person who allowed Ronan to say _yes_. To take (or do or _destroy_) what he wanted without thinking about the consequences.

But Adam (the love of his life, the answer to all of his misguided prayers) was different. The first coherent thought Ronan had when he saw that strangely beautiful man from across the room was _don’t ruin this_. And he had tried, and sometimes he had failed, but he hadn’t ruined Adam. He hadn’t destroyed him. Ronan took care with Adam (Ronan couldn’t handle the care that _Adam_ took with _him_, it always made him feel like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin), treaded lightly. Held back the worst parts of himself until _Adam_ had revealed them piece by piece; wanting to see the parts that made up the whole.

(_You are greater than the sum of your parts, Ronan_, he had whispered under the cover of darkness in their first apartment together. _None of us are the same person we were at seventeen, you especially_)

(_I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you_; he had said against the nape of Ronan’s neck as he held him tightly. As he refused to let Ronan go)

When he walked back to his room, skin raw, feeling numb, Adam was sitting on his bed, picking at a loose thread in the bedspread. Ronan immediately made for his dresser, dropping his towel and stepping into a pair of black boxers.

“When’s your train tomorrow?”

“Noon,” Adam said from behind him. Ronan nodded, still facing away. “What’s wrong, Ronan?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Ronan said as he turned, buttoning his jeans. He grabbed a shirt and sat down on the bed next to Adam as he pulled it on.

Adam laughed humorlessly, falling back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling. Ronan followed suit, his hand nudging against Adam’s. Their fingers tangled together loosely. “Just tell me.”

“I love having you here, but it’s hard, Adam. It’s so fucking hard.” Ronan tightened his grip on Adam’s hand, needing to ground himself. “Knowing that at any point one of us could get on a train or a plane or in a fucking car… I think that pretending that it’s only miles is just gonna hurt us in the end.” Adam squeezed his hand back and Ronan continued on. “We don’t know how long this is going to last, and I think it’ll be easier if we schedule time to be together. Give us both something to look forward to.”

“You’re right.” Adam said at last, voice thick. “It’s just,” he rolled on to his side and Ronan saw that his cheeks were wet with silent tears. He reached out to brush a few stray drops away. “I missed you, and this is the longest we’ve ever been apart and... And I didn’t know it could feel like this.” He cleared his throat. “I never wanted to be one of those guys who was nothing without their partner—”

“You’re not,” Ronan insisted.

Adam just laughed, it was watery and a little sad, but it was still his laugh. He kissed the tip of Ronan’s nose. “I’m just saying that you’re my favorite person to be around and I missed you, and I had a moment of weakness where I could pretend that our biggest problem were the miles between us. But you’re right,” he said again. “This is bigger than all that.”

Ronan pulled him close, Adam settling himself on top of Ronan. He didn’t call attention to the wet spot Adam was leaving on his shoulder as he cried. “We’re gonna be okay.”

“You’re still coming up next week, yeah?” Adam asked once the tears had stopped.

“Try to fucking stop me.”

***

Adam was hugging Ronan tightly as they stood at the Amtrak station.

(Okay, Ronan was hugging him just as tightly. But, whatever)

“I’ll see you in a couple days,” Ronan said into Adam’s hair.

“I’ll meet you at LaGuardia.”

(Ronan wasn’t sure if he had ever loved him more)

***

Ronan knew that he would be in Virginia for at least six weeks. That was the low end of the recovery time for the kind of injury Aurora had sustained. At the six-week mark, Ronan drove his mother to DC for her doctor’s appointment.

It did not go well.

“I thought you said that she would be fully recovered in six weeks,” Ronan scowled at his mother’s doctor.

“Ronan,” Aurora admonished.

“Yes. But the population of people suffering from multiple ligament tears does skew a little young.” The doctor pushed his glasses farther up his nose, not looking at Ronan as he spoke. “And they’re usually athletes, and their bodies are used to recovering very quickly. Your mother is doing quite well for her age.”

Ronan’s hands squeezed into fists, but he didn’t do anything he would later regret. “How much longer?”

“Hard to say. I think you should come back in two weeks and we’ll check on your progress. If it starts to stagnate, we may need to start you on physical therapy.” The doctor was speaking to Aurora now, and Ronan stood and stormed out of the room.

A few minutes later, his mother came hobbling out. Ronan felt a flush of embarrassment at his tantrum, coming up to his mother’s side to help stabilize her. They checked out and made their way to the parking garage.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, once they were settled in the car. “I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s alright, Ronan.” She patted his hand on the gear stick. “I know this is hard for you. Being away from Adam and your friends and your _life_.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I know you don’t like the idea of it, but we should start to think about hiring a farmhand—”

“No.” Ronan shook his head. “_No_. You are going to be _fine_.”

“I’m not saying that I’m never going to recover, love. But there is a chance that I won’t get back to 100%, and you can’t just give up your life for this.”

“I’m not going to hire some stranger to come and live in our _house_—”

“Well I don’t want that either.” She laughed, and the sound calmed Ronan slightly. “We’ll interview them, get to know them. Find someone we can trust.”

Ronan sighed. “Let’s focus on you getting better for a little bit, okay?” He turned on the car, the BMW coming to life underneath them. “But we can come back to it later.” Aurora patted his hand one last time and Ronan backed out of the spot.

He didn’t call Adam until much later, not wanting to disturb him while he was at work. It wasn’t until dinner was made and eaten, the dishes washed, and his mother tucked away in bed that he finally called; sitting on the stairs of the back porch, looking out at the dark field.

Adam answered on the third ring. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Ronan leaned back, eyes closed.

(It was easier to pretend that Adam was here with him that way)

“How was your mom’s appointment?”

Ronan sighed. “Not great. The doctor is worried that her progress is stagnating.”

“I thought you said she was doing better?”

“She is, but she’s still not at 100%. And the doctor doesn’t know when, or even _if_, that will happen.”

“Oh, baby,” Adam crooned. The pet names had become more and more of a common occurrence since Ronan had gone down to Virginia, now that they couldn’t use touch to placate one another they had to use _words_.

(It was gross really. Just how mature they were becoming)

“So what’s the plan?” Adam asked.

“We’re gonna go back in two weeks, if there hasn’t been enough improvement, she’s going to start physical therapy.” He opened his eyes; the sky was clear and full of stars. “I knew she wasn’t going to get the all clear today, but I thought that he would at least know when she would be fully recovered.”

“I miss you too.”

Ronan wiped away a single tear. He hated this. So fucking much. “Mom says that we should look into getting a farmhand.”

“You still don’t like the idea, huh?”

“It’s our _family_ farm, you know? It should be run by family.” He sighed. “But if it the doctor can’t give us a realistic timeline soon, we’re gonna start looking for one.”

Adam yawned from the other end and Ronan smiled at the sound. “You’ll figure it out.” He paused. “_We’ll_ figure it out.”

“I love you, so fucking much.”

“I have that effect on people.” There was an unfamiliar _ding_ from Adam’s end of the call.

“What was that?”

“Just an email,” there was the telltale sound of keys clacking as Adam typed something on his computer.

“You know, the _no work in the bedroom_ rule still stands when I’m not there.”

“I’m not in bed,” Adam replied, sounding sheepish.

“Where are you?”

“At the office?”

Ronan swore viciously, scrubbing a hand across the back of his head. “Why?” he said at last.

“I wanted to get ahead of my work before Thanksgiving.”

“Adam. Why the hell are you still at the office?” Ronan said, cutting through the crap his boyfriend was spewing.

“I don’t like to be home alone, okay?” he finally answered, voice breaking. “It’s hard to be motivated to get out of the office when I’m just going home to an empty apartment.” There were a few muffled curses, like Adam was scrubbing his face as he swore. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be another fucking burden in your life—”

Ronan cut in before Adam could get any adverse ideas. “Shut up, Parrish. You’re not a burden. You are _never_ a burden. This whole thing is fucking hard for you too.” He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—”

“Just let me finish. I’m sorry that this hurts you just as much as it hurts me.”

“God,” Adam sighed. “You think we’d be better at this by now,” he joked.

“Nah, that’s not our style.” Ronan picked at hole in his jeans. “Will you please head home?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” Adam’s comment would have had more of an edge if he didn’t sound like he had just been crying. Ronan could hear Adam start to pack up from the other end of the phone as he spoke. “I’m going over to Monmouth for dinner tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

_I always worry about you, Parrish_.

“Have fun. Do something to piss Gansey off for me.”

Adam laughed. “I’ll try. Hey, can I call you back when I get home? I don’t wanna lose you on the train.”

“Sure thing, Parrish. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

***

This was the first Thanksgiving where Ronan was in charge of most of the cooking. His mother had tried to convince him that she could handle it, but Ronan didn’t want her to be on her feet all day. To say he was stressed was an understatement.

Now that Adam was here (feet tucked up on to the passenger seat of the BMW, recounting the story of how Gansey spilled an entire large coffee across his lap two minutes into their train ride, looking so fucking beautiful in the light from the dash) Ronan felt like he could breathe.

“We need to stop at the store before we go home,” Ronan said as he pulled off the freeway.

“Okay,” Adam said, head tipped against the window. “It’s still open?”

“It’s not that late,” Ronan laughed. “It’s just dark.”

“Fuckin’ daylight savings,” Adam swore, yawning.

(Ronan was this close to pulling off the road to show Adam just how much he missed him. But he was 26 now, and he could handle his fucking urges, God dammit)

They only needed a few items from the store, Ronan offering to run inside quickly while Adam stayed in the car, but his boyfriend just rolled his eyes and unbuckled his seat belt. Adam knocked his shoulder with Ronan’s as he sidled up next to him.

He wished he could take his hand, (not because he had a Thing for Adam’s hands. Well, not just because he had a Thing for Adam’s hands) but this was Virginia, and it was dark, and Ronan didn’t want to start the holiday off on a bad foot. So they walked into the store close enough to touch, just enjoying being near each other. The last time they had been together was a little over two weeks ago for Ronan’s birthday.

(Adam suggested that they meet halfway and spend a little over 24 hours in Philadelphia. They had planned to explore the city, but they didn’t end up leaving their hotel room once they had checked in)

“What do we need?” Adam had insisted on grabbing a cart, riding it up and down the aisles.

“Drinks and like a shit ton of butter.”

Adam nodded and set off on the cart to the drink aisle. “Oh shit, do we need to go to a liquor store? I forgot that you can’t buy alcohol in grocery stores here.”

“Nah,” Ronan laughed grabbing a case of Coke and dropping it in the cart. “I went the other day.”

After loading the cart with soda and juice they took off for the dairy aisle. Ronan watched as he tucked his arms around himself to keep himself warm. If they were anywhere else, Ronan would have wrapped himself around Adam to keep him warm. But, well.

“Wait here,” Adam said as Ronan was appraising the butter. “I’m gonna go grab a box of Frosted Flakes.”

“There’s an unopened box of Frosted Flakes at the Barns just for you,” Ronan said finally finding the right brand and loading up the cart. When Adam didn’t respond, he looked up. Adam was looking at him, expression unreadable, held tilted to the left, watching Ronan. “Parrish?”

Adam didn’t say anything, quickly glancing around the empty aisle before closing the distance between them and pressing a kiss to Ronan’s lips. It was a chaste kiss, but Ronan felt a little dazed when Adam pulled away regardless.

“C’mon. Take me home,” he said pulling the cart away. There was a fire in Adam’s eyes, a smug smile playing at his lips.

“Parrish, the _butter_,” Ronan whined (fucking _whined_, if he hadn’t known just how much Adam loved him, he would have been embarrassed). Adam threw a laugh over his shoulder, stopping so Ronan could toss an armful of butter into the basket.

Adam rode the cart across the mostly empty parking lot, Ronan jogging behind to keep up with him. They loaded the groceries into the back of the BMW, hands brushing against each other unnecessarily; both of them desperate for the other’s touch.

Ronan closed the trunk soundly, Adam smiling widely in the light from the streetlamp. He looked down at the cart and then back up at Adam, a challenge in his gaze. “Get in.”

“Ronan, _no_,” Adam laughed, trying to spin away.

“Parrish, c’mon. It’ll be fun.”

Adam paused looking between the cart and Ronan’s wild smile. “Fine,” Adam clambered into the cart. “You better still love me when you inevitably fuck up my face.”

“As long as you don’t fuck up your hands,” Ronan said in Adam’s hearing ear, pressing a kiss to Adam’s cheek before starting to run.

(Adam’s whooping laughter felt like coming home)

(They didn’t fuck up any faces or hands, Adam kissing him soundly in the safety of the car once the cart was returned)

The holiday itself was a boisterous affair, because of Aurora’s accident and Ronan’s temporary relocation to Virginia, Gansey and Blue insisted on spending Thanksgiving at the Barns. They arrived early on in the day, Fox Way pies in hand.

“Lynch!” Blue called from the front hall when they arrived. “It’s quite rude to not meet your guests—holy shit what happened in here?” She stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mouth agape.

Ronan couldn’t blame her; the kitchen was a disaster zone. “What happened here is that I am not cut out for this.” Ronan could hear the waver in his voice.

“Woah,” she stepped towards him, leaving a pie on the counter.

“What’s going on in here?” Gansey stuck his head in the door. “Oh my—”

“Gansey, put down the pie and go say hello to Aurora.”

“O-kay…” he put down the pie and backed out of the kitchen.

Once Gansey was gone, she turned back to Ronan. “Alright. Take a deep breath,” Ronan tried and failed. “Sit,” Blue pushed him towards a chair and Ronan collapsed into it. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this, Blue. How do people do this? It’s so much fucking food. More than we could ever eat. This is why people go hungry, because of this stupid capitalist holiday—”

“Stop. Seriously, Ronan. Stop.” She stood in front of Ronan, only a little taller than him when he was sitting. “You’re right, about the capitalist holiday thing and I’m sure you were about to mention Thanksgiving as a tradition that actively erases the history of indigenous people in America—” she saw the panic in Ronan’s eyes, “but that’s not the point.” She cleared her throat. “This is a holiday, Ronan. A time we spend with friends and family to enjoy our time together. It shouldn’t stress you out this much, okay?”

“But it _does_.”

“But it doesn’t have to. Gansey and Adam and I, we’ll help you. Your brothers can keep your mom company, and we will help you get the food on the table, alright?”

“Parrish can’t cook for shit.”

Blue laughed. “He can cut vegetables. Or make us drinks. Okay? Will you let us help you?” Ronan nodded and Blue smiled down at him. “Great. Now take a couple of deep breaths while I go and find them, alright?”

Ronan closed his eyes and tried to focus on settling his heart rate. He was starting to feel himself relax when he heard Adam say “Ro?” from the door. He opened his eyes and gave his boyfriend a watery smile.

“Parrish. Hi.”

“How you doing, baby?” He asked, kneeling down in front of Ronan.

“Get up, loser,” Blue said, peering down at Adam. “We have a feast to make.”

They were able to finish cooking and sit down to eat at a normal time. Ronan felt a rush of pride, looking at their spread. He hadn’t done it alone (he couldn’t have done it alone), but that made it better, really. To have all these people he loved (and who loved him back) nearby.

***

Ronan had decided to go back up to New York after Thanksgiving. He hadn’t been back since that first visit in October. It was easier for Adam to come down and visit him, but Declan had offered to stay with their mom and take care of the farm for a few days so Ronan could get away.

They met up with Henry and Noah on their first night for drinks (Ronan’s idea) and dinner (Adam’s idea) and board games (Henry’s idea). If it had been months since Ronan had last been in his apartment (it was still his apartment, he insisted on paying his half of the rent), he couldn’t even remember the last time he had been in Monmouth. He was wandering around the brownstone, finding himself in his old bedroom.

He and Noah and converted it to a studio years ago, not long after he moved in with Adam, as a place for both of them to work. The last piece he had been working on before his mother’s accident was still sitting on his easel, a charcoal drawing reminiscent of a lot of the work he did in college.

Ronan missed it, all of a sudden. Like he had forgot how much he loved to create things.

(It didn’t hurt that people liked his art enough to buy it, to hang it in their galleries)

“I thought I’d find you in here,” Adam said from behind him. He turned to watch his boyfriend walk over, Adam wrapping his arms around Ronan’s middle. “Dinner’s almost ready.” He pressed a kiss to the space between Ronan’s ear and his cheek. “Wow, this looks like your old stuff.”

“Yeah, I think I was in a nostalgic mood.” He paused, still studying the piece. “I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

He could feel Adam nod, his arms tightening around Ronan. “You’d have time, right? To work while you’re at the Barns?”

“I guess, yeah. I hadn’t thought about it.”

“It would give you, and your mom, something to do. Keep yourselves from getting too stir crazy.”

“Good idea, Parrish.” Adam kissed him again.

“I’m all good ideas, stop sounding so surprised. C’mon. We can pack up some of this stuff before we leave, but I’m starving.” Ronan laughed, letting Adam drag him out of the room.

***

It was harder to leave New York than Ronan expected. Of course he was sad to be leaving Adam a-fucking-gain, but he had forgotten how much he liked living in New York sometimes.

(It didn’t help that the last few hours he spent in New York were spent saying goodbye to Adam and then being stuck in fucking _LaGuardia_)

“You could just take the train,” Adam had said in the Uber on the way to the airport.

“Too late for that now.”

“Hey,” Adam said, voice low. “I know this fucking sucks, okay? Can you try not to ruin the last few minutes we have together?”

“Sorry,” Ronan shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Adam took his hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of his wrist. Ronan felt the telltale prickle of tears in his eyes. He wiped at one eye with his shoulder, but he hadn’t fooled Adam.

“We’ll see each other before Christmas, yeah?”

Ronan could only nod. He sucked in a heavy breath. “Yeah, Matthew has a pretty long break. I think I’ll be able to come up here for a week and then we can go back down together.”

“I could go back down in two weeks; we don’t have to—”

“No,” Ronan finally looked up. “I don’t want you missing any more work.”

“Actually,” Adam glanced down at their clasped hands. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about that—”

He was cut off by their Uber driver asking, “what airline?”

“United,” Ronan answered. “But I’m not checking a bag, so anywhere is fine.” The driver made a noise of agreement, merging over to get near the curb. “What were you saying?” Adam was looking out the window, watching them pull closer and closer to the drop-off. “Parrish?”

He shook his head, turning back to face Ronan. “Nothing. We can, uh, talk about it later.”

“Alright,” the car finally pulled up to the curb. Ronan kissed the back of Adam’s hand, giving him a tight smile. “C’mon.”

They got out of the car, taking his bags from driver and thanking him. It was early enough that LaGuardia wasn’t too busy, but it was still terrible, and Ronan still hated it.

“You have time for coffee before you have to get to work?”

“Yeah,” Adam smiled and let Ronan lead him to a Starbucks cart, ordering a pumpkin spice latte for himself (his tastes had not matured, and if anything his self-control had only waned, as he got older) and a cappuccino with an extra shot for Adam.

They sat and people watched as they drank their coffees, trying to pretend like this wasn’t breaking both of their hearts.

***

It was always hard to transition back to _real life_ after one of their visits, the pain of long distance fresh on their minds having just been reminded of how good it was to be together. Ronan had decided to throw himself into his work, and not just on the farm.

His mother had been thrilled when Ronan presented her with the art supplies he had taken from Monmouth. Ronan spent his mornings taking care of the animals and the rest of the day drawing and painting, with and without his mother at his side. He was quite inspired by the Barns, both by the physical subjects as well as the aesthetic of the place. There was a growing stack of drawings and paintings accumulating in the corner of the sunroom. Ronan knew that if the pieces themselves didn’t sell, that they were still good practice.

Aurora’s knee still wasn’t at 100%, but she had slowly started helping Ronan with the daily chores. It was nice to share the work, especially because the chickens seemed to have a personal vendetta against Ronan. He was more than willing to have his mother tend to them.

When he was telling Adam this, almost a week since he had returned to Virginia, his boyfriend had not reacted the way he had expected.

“Mom started helping with the chores this morning. She’s not used to waking up with the sun again, though.”

“You think she’ll get back to managing everything again soon?”

Ronan paused not sure how to proceed. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“You guys haven’t talked about it?”

“No.”

Adam said nothing for a few beats. “Have you guys looked into getting a farmhand?”

“No.” There was an unfamiliar rustling from the other end. “Parrish?”

“Christ, Ronan.” There was another muffled sound. “I need to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ve just had a shit day and I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay. Alright. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow, ‘night,” Adam said before hanging up.

Ronan stared down at his phone for a moment, speechless. He almost called Adam again, demanding that he say goodbye (and _I love you_) properly.

But he didn’t, Ronan dropping his phone on to the couch beside him. It’s not like he didn’t know that Adam loved him, and he was obviously in a bad mood. Rather than irritate him even further, Ronan stood and padded upstairs to his room.

Even after a couple months at the Barns, Ronan still wasn’t quite used to the quiet of the countryside. There was something unsettling about the silence sometimes, especially when he couldn’t sleep. He missed the hum and thrum of the city just outside his window, the reassurance that the world was still spinning, that life kept moving on.

He wanted to call Adam, just to hear him breathing, just to remind himself that Adam was still real even if he was hundreds of miles away.

(_It’s like you don’t have any object permanence_, Adam had whispered into the phone a few weeks ago on a night like this_. Just because you can’t see me, doesn’t mean that I cease to exist_)

(_It’s hard to believe you’re real even when you’re standing right in front of me_, Ronan had replied, staring up at the moon outside his window)

Ronan was pretty sure (not positive, sometimes it was impossible to read Adam Parrish) that if he called Adam and asked him to stay on the line so he could have a chance of falling asleep, he would. But he didn’t want to disturb him, didn’t want to knowingly sail into the hurricane Adam had found himself in.

Instead, Ronan tossed and turned all night long.

***

Ronan was exhausted when he got up the next morning to tend to the animals. His mother handed him a mug of coffee when he came downstairs, which he took gratefully. As the caffeine kicked in, Aurora was more than willing to keep up a one-sided conversation, Ronan nodding and grunting along as she laid out to their plans for the day.

It was getting colder and colder, and their main goal for the day was to get the animals into their respective barns. This was easier said than done. While the animals were miserable out in the cold, they didn’t understand that going inside would be beneficial to them.

“I’m trying to help you,” Ronan grunted, as he led the last cow towards the barn. “Why can’t you see that?”

Aurora laughed at his struggle, sliding open the barn door as Ronan approached, and helping to get the cow inside. “Sheep?” she said, cocking her head towards the sheep pasture.

“Sheep,” Ronan agreed, trudging back through the field.

“We do this every year,” he said to a particularly ungrateful sheep. “How do you forget that we do this every year?”

“Stop trying to psychoanalyze the sheep, Ronan,” his mother said, shooing two sheep inside easily (the poor bastards had missed her, lapping at her palms and nosing at her feet like a pack of dogs). “It won’t make you feel any saner.”

He rolled his eyes affectionately as he guided the sheep inside the barn. “That all of them?” the sun was well above the horizon now, though it wasn’t providing much warmth.

Aurora stuck her head inside the barn for a few moments, counting. “I believe so. I’ll do one last sweep of the pasture to be sure.”

“I can do it—”

“Go get started on breakfast,” she cut him off with a smile. “And more coffee.”

“Aye-aye, Capitan.” He gave her a two-fingered salute and made his way back up to the main house.

He made eggs and toast, their usual breakfast, and got the coffee machine going. Aurora came back in not long after Ronan, chunks of her hair blown out of her braid by the wind. “All sheep are accounted for. Oh good, the coffee’s done.”

They ate breakfast in a comfortable silence, Aurora reading the paper, Ronan filling in the crossword with creative profanities and terrible puns. This was their morning routine.

(Ronan never showed his mother the crosswords, he didn’t want to scandalize the poor woman. He usually just tossed the lifestyle section in the recycling when he was done, but he took pictures of the especially good ones to send to Adam, or Blue, or Noah)

“I thought I would drive out into town and do some Christmas shopping,” Aurora said as she cleared her plate.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No. I just wanted you to know that I was headed out. I’m meeting a friend, so you don’t need to worry about me.”

(How sad was that? His mother had a more interesting social life than him)

“Alright. I’ll get started on the laundry while you’re gone.”

“Take a break, Ronan,” she said from the sink. “You work too hard. Watch a movie. Call your boyfriend.”

Ronan still hadn’t heard back from Adam after the rude an abrupt end to their call from the night before. But it was Sunday, and Adam was most likely awake. It seemed a good a time as any to call and check in on him.

His mother was out the door in under a half hour, bundled up against the cold. She dropped a kiss on the top of Ronan’s head as she left, calling an _I love you_ over her shoulder as the door closed behind her. Ronan waited until the sound of her car faded to nothing before he called Adam.

He closed his eyes as the phone rang and rang. He was sure that it was about to go to voicemail when Adam said, “Hello?” as the call connected.

“Hi,” Ronan said, suddenly unsure of himself.

“What’s up?” Adam asked.

Ronan scrubbed a hand across the top of his head, not sure how he wanted to respond. “Nothing, just wanted to talk to you.” _I just wanted to hear your voice_. _I just needed to be sure that you were still there_.

“Well, I’m kind of busy right now, so if there’s important you want to talk about…”

Ronan could feel anger (an emotion he had been without for so long that it was difficult to name) rising inside him. He tried to keep the tide at bay, snapping, “fine. If you don’t want to talk to me, I’ll go. Bye, Parrish.” He hung up the phone and tossed it across the room. It bounced along the old Persian rug, stopping in front of the TV.

From where he was sitting, he could tell that it was ringing, but he chose to ignore it. Give Adam a taste of his own medicine.

It was a little (very) childish and a little (very) petty, but he didn’t care. It felt good to be the one hanging up the phone once in a while.

(Later, after he and Adam had both profusely apologized to one another, they would agree that the only reason it felt good to be an asshole was because it at least meant that they had a little bit of agency and choice in this situation that was so wildly out of their control. But for now, he knew that it just felt good be an asshole)

He reached for the remote and turned the TV to the Food Network. There was some kind of cooking competition show marathon on whose premise immediately sucked him in, Ronan spending an embarrassing number of hours camped out on the couch, totally entranced.

When his mother came home, arms laden with shopping bags, she found him sprawled out on the couch as an amature chef from North Dakota raced against the clock to finish an honestly impressive croquembouche.

“Hey, Ma,” he said, half his face pressed into the couch. “How was your shopping?”

“Quite successful.” She tucked the bags away in the guest room before padding back into the living room. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive. Adam called me, asking if you were okay.”

Ronan rolled away from his mother’s voice, embarrassed. He had retrieved his phone from the floor a little over an hour ago when he had gotten up to use the bathroom. There were six missed calls from Adam and just a single text:

**parrish** 💕**: **_Hey, call me when you’ve decided to stop being a dick._

(That didn’t seem to bode well, and it was part of the reason Ronan had not called him back despite no longer wanting to be a dick)

“I’m fine.”

“I can see that.” Aurora reached down and grabbed the remote from Ronan’s loose grip on it. She shut the TV off, despite her son’s protests. “Get up and go call your boyfriend, Ronan. He sounded worried.”

Ronan sat up and rolled his eyes. At the movement, Aurora lightly cuffed him across the back of his head. “Fine, fine. I’ll be outside.”

He grabbed an old utility coat that had belonged to his father that was hanging by the back door and slipped it on over his hoodie. His feet were socked, but he stepped into a pair of work boots anyway.

It was getting dark, the sun dipping below the horizon as he walked out on to the back porch, settling on the stairs, phone in hand. He had called Adam dozens, if not hundreds, of times from this very spot.

(It was easy to pretend he was sitting right there with him)

He dialed Adam’s number and waited, part of him hoping he would go straight to voicemail so that he could put this off for just a little—

“Hi,” Adam said as the call connected.

Ronan took a deep breath. “Hi.”

“You done being a dick?”

“I don’t know. I am if you are.”

Adam laughed humorlessly from the other end. “Well, I don’t know if I’m done being a dick either.”

“Great. No way that this conversation can go badly,” Ronan joked. Adam didn’t laugh.

“What’s up with you?” Adam asked at last.

“What’s up with _you_?” Ronan countered.

“Don’t answer a question with a question.” Adam huffed out an annoyed breath.

“You were the one that started this whole thing—”

“Pray tell, Ronan, what did I start?” he asked, voice rising.

“The fucking hanging up on me. It serves you right to have it happen to you.”

“Oh ho, ho,” Adam deadpanned. “I did not start that shit with you. You were the one driving me up the goddamn wall, I’m sorry if I didn’t want to hear you go on and on about how fucking perfect your life is.”

“Are you high? Do you even fucking hear yourself, Parrish? Do you think this is fucking easy for me?”

“I seems pretty easy to me. You get to frolic around with the fucking animals all day like a goddamn Disney princess, while I’m busting my ass at work and generally living in the real world.”

“None of this job requires frolicking, fuck you very much.”

“_God_, do you even hear yourself?” Adam intoned. Ronan could picture his expression in perfect detail, blue eyes narrowed, one eyebrow cocked, a disapproving tilt to his lips. “What you’re doing isn’t a job, Lynch.”

“Isn’t a _job_? Making sure this place runs like a fucking well-oiled machine, making sure animals are fed and well cared for, making sure my mother can get up and out of bed every morning isn’t a fucking job? Just because I don’t get a paycheck and a fucking pension doesn’t mean that my work isn’t worth doing.”

“It’s all so goddamn easy for you. This is literally what you wanted to be when you grew up, why can’t you just fucking accept that, Ronan?”

“I don’t get it,” Ronan could feel the contempt and ice seeping into his tone, but he didn’t try to redirect his course (He felt like he was watching this whole scene from outside his body, like he could hear and see everything, but he was too powerless to stop it).“Is it or isn’t it a job, Parrish? Because you seem to be unable to make up your mind.”

“I just want you to admit that you don’t want to fucking come back to New York, that this is all just a really convenient fucking excuse for you to stay at the Barns forever.”

“You must be out of your fucking _mind_ if you think that this is what I want. Even for a _second_. Yes, I do want to live at the Barns, but so did _you_ four years ago. What happened to that?”

“What happened to that?” Adam repeated. “You were the one who said that we should stay in New York! That’s why I took this fucking job at OmegaTech—”

“And another thing, there is no way that you and your fucking genius brain think that I have _ever_ wanted anything that meant that I couldn’t have _you_.” There was an eerie silence on the other end of the line. “I love my mom and the Barns, and I would do anything to take care of them, but you, Parrish. You are the thing I would fucking burn it all down for. None of this could ever make me fucking happy if it meant that I had to give you up.”

There were a few tense beats of silence, and Ronan couldn’t fucking stand it.

“Look. I think we should take a break. Think about some things.”

“What are you saying?” Adam asked, voice tight, like he was trying to keep himself from crying. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? Fuck. No. And it’s not like that thing from that fucking show either.”

“_Friends_?” Ronan hummed in agreement. “Then what are you saying, Lynch?”

“Like we should hang up and take a couple days to calm down and regroup. I think the distance is making us crazy and I sure as shit don’t want to say something I don’t mean just to be a dick.”

“Okay.” Adam sucked in a ragged breath. Ronan wished he could reach out and hold him, pull him towards his chest and _never fucking let go_. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” Ronan repeated. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Adam’s voice broke on the last word.

He hung up the call.

*** 

Ronan woke up before the sun the next morning, padding downstairs and meeting his mother in the kitchen. She pushed a mug of steaming coffee into his hands and pressed a kiss to his temple. “You okay?” she asked as they made their way out of the house.

“Yeah,” he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dad’s coat. “Adam and I got into a fight.” He sucked in a lungful of crisp, morning air. “We’ll be fine. I think we just need some space.” He laughed humorlessly. “Fuck, isn’t that ironic.”

(Aurora didn’t even admonish him for swearing; she must have been really worried)

“What’s ironic?”

“There are literally almost 300 miles between us, and we need _space_. We’ve got nothing but space.” He laughed again, feeling a little manic, feeling a lot out of his mind.

“You’ll be fine,” Aurora squeezed his arm as they split ways.

Ronan threw himself into his work, fixing crooked, but not broken, fence posts and cleaning out feeding troughs that hadn’t been used since they had gotten rid of the pigs all those years ago. He knew that he was just trying to distract himself from his thoughts, but it felt good to have something to show for all the work he had done.

He checked on the animals in the barns before he went back inside, taking another count of them just be sure none of them had escaped. It was all on the up and up as he made his way back to the house, leaving his shoes at the back door.

“I’m making cinnamon rolls,” Aurora said as he entered the kitchen. “But if you’re hungry, you should eat now. It’s going to be a while.

Ronan made himself a sandwich and ate it at the counter, watching his mother knead the dough. “Will you show me how to make those sometime? Parrish loves cinnamon rolls.”

She looked up at him, and smiled, one cheek dimpling. “Of course, love. Next time, you’ll be my sous chef.” That was how he had learned everything he did about cooking, acting as Aurora’s sous chef.

He took his sandwich out to the living room, settling on the couch and turning the TV on. The cooking competition show he had been sucked into yesterday was on again, and he settled back into the couch to watch.

One and a half episodes later, there was a knock on the front door. Ronan shut off the TV and called, “I got it,” towards the kitchen.

Ronan didn’t know who would be coming around their house at this time on a Sunday, but he had not expected it to be one Blue Sargent.

“Maggot?”

“Nice to see you too, Lynch.”

He towered over her, but she didn’t cower. Not like she ever had in the almost six years of knowing him. “What are you doing here?”

“At your house or in the great state of Virginia?”

“Virginia is a commonwealth.”

“Answer the damn question, Lynch.”

Ronan paused. “Virginia.”

“Gansey is in dissertation writing hell and I couldn’t be around it for another second, so I told him that I wanted to surprise my mom for her birthday.”

They were still standing at the door. Neither one tried to move. “Is it actually your mother’s birthday?”

“Yes,” Blue rolled her eyes and blew a stray lock of hair out of her face with an annoyed huff.

“Makes sense that your mother is a Sagittarius.”

“Don’t pretend like you know, or care, about the astrological signs.”

“You’re right, I just wanted to rile you up. Why the hell are you at my house if it’s your mother’s birthday?”

“Did I or did I not tell you what would happen if you broke Adam’s heart?”

“Uh,” Ronan paused. Was this a trick question? “You didn’t?”

Blue was about to say something until she reeled back. “What?”

“You didn’t tell me what would happen if I broke Adam’s heart.”

(Ronan wanted to point out that he had _not_ broken Adam’s heart. At least, he was pretty sure that he hadn’t)

“I didn’t?” Blue seemed to wrack her brain. “Huh, I think I was waiting for you guys to define the relationship and I forgot by the time you realized that you were dating.”

There were a few beats of silence. “That would have really cleared things up, actually.”

Blue laughed, a surprised little thing; her mask of anger and indignation sliding back over her features in an instant. She opened her mouth to say something again, but she was interrupted by Aurora’s voice. “Ronan, the cinnamon rolls are done,” she said, voice getting closer as she walked over to the door. “Who’s—oh, Blue. How lovely to see you!”

“Hi, Aurora.” She smiled at Ronan’s mother; the grin returned by the older woman.

“Would you like to come in? I made cinnamon rolls.”

Blue looked to Ronan, a question in her gaze. “Come on in, Maggot. These cinnamon rolls are gonna rock your world.”

She stepped out of her shoes, leaving them in the front hall, following the Lynches back to the kitchen. Aurora plated two cinnamon rolls and sent them on their way. Ronan led Blue out to the back porch, settling on the stairs. He tried to push away the memory of his fight in this very spot only twelve hours ago.

“What did Adam say to you?” Ronan asked at last.

Blue chewed and swallowed. “Uh, not much, if I’m being honest. And most of it was incomprehensible crying?” Ronan felt a pang of remorse at that. “Something about taking a break? Breaking up? Did you break up with him?”

“No. _God_, no. Why do you people keep thinking that?” Ronan took a bite of his cinnamon roll, thinking. “We got into this big ugly fight, and I said that we should take a break for a few days to cool down and try to think rationally instead of emotionally before either of us said something we would regret.”

Blue was regarding him carefully, gaze unnerving. At last she said, “well that’s awfully mature of you.” She seemed to deflate a little, the self-righteous air about her dissipating all at once. “I know this is really fucking hard, but I think you guys have done really well with long distance. As well as you can, anyways.”

Ronan huffed out a breath, leaning back against the stairs. “I know I love him, and that I want to be with him, and I know this whole situation sucks, but I don’t know how to fix it. I can’t figure out if there is a solution that would make either of us fucking happy.” He scrubbed at his face with both hands, taking in a breath of cold air to settle some of the disquiet living underneath his skin.

“Look, there probably won’t be a _perfect_ solution, but as long as you both know that going in, as long as you both can accept that there are going to be parts of this that absolutely fucking suck, you two will figure it out. Figure _something_ out, at least.” She squeezed Ronan’s shoulder, trying her best to look earnest.

“You know, Maggot, you’re pretty wise. Maybe I should start calling you Praying Mantis.”

“Ew. No. Don’t do that. Praying mantises creep me out.” Blue shuddered.

“And maggots _don’t_?”

***

Thirty-six hours after their fight, Ronan was losing his goddamn mind.

“Fuck this,” he said, standing up from the kitchen table.

“Ronan, language.” His mother looked up from the newspaper, fair eyebrows drawn together. “What are you doing?”

Ronan was clearing his plate and mug from the table, but he was pretty that wasn’t what his mother was asking about. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m going to New York.” He paused. “What am I talking about? I can’t just leave you here on your own. Never mind.” He collapsed back into his chair, rubbing at his tired eyes.

(He had trouble sleeping again the night before, turning off his phone to keep himself from calling Adam)

“I can handle being on my own for a few days, Ronan.” He hadn’t expected his mother to say this, and he definitely didn’t expect the edge to her voice. “I am not incapable of taking care of myself, and the animals, if you need to go home.”

_Home_. Ronan wasn’t sure where that was anymore.

(That wasn’t true. Adam had been his home for a long, long time)

“Okay. Okay.” Ronan stood and swept out of the kitchen, going up to his room to quickly pack a bag. He still had quite a bit of clothes in New York, but he definitely needed to bring underwear, as well as some of his warmer clothes. He checked outgoing flights to New York, but they were fully booked or ridiculously expensive, and Ronan had reluctantly conceded to taking the train.

He was trying to book a ticket (the website was being unnecessarily slow; didn’t they know that he was losing his mind over here?) as he came down to the kitchen. “You packed up already?” his mother asked.

“Yeah. I’m not actually sure if I have everything but.” He shrugged and huffed in annoyance, tucking his phone into his back pocket. He would just buy the ticket at the station. “You sure you’ll be okay for a few days?”

“I’ll be just fine. The animals are much easier to manage when they aren’t roaming about.”

“Okay, I’m gonna call Declan from the car and tell him; so if you need anything, call him.”

“I got it, Ronan.” She stood, her hands coming to cup his face. “Don’t worry about me. Go,” she kissed his cheek.

“Alright, alright.” Ronan leaned down and pressed a kiss to his mother’s forehead before pulling her into a tight hug. He grabbed his duffle bag and made his way to the door. “Love you, Ma.”

“Love you too, Ronan.”

He nodded and made his way out the front door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of an unfamiliar car in the driveway. For a moment he thought it was Blue again, borrowing another car from one of the Fox Way witches.

(It wasn’t Blue)

_Adam_ stepped out of the car, beat up gray duffle bag in hand. 

The car turned around and pulled away from the house.

Ronan dropped his duffle bag on the porch.

Adam took a tentative step closer to him, expression hesitant.

Ronan bounded down the stairs and barreled straight into him, the impact knocking the breath out of him (or was that just the sight of Adam, in the flesh?). Adam’s arms came around Ronan’s shoulders, holding him tightly.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Ronan found himself whispering over and over as Adam shook with unshed tears.

After a minute (ten minutes, an hour, a _lifetime_) they pulled apart. Ronan’s hands came up to cup Adam’s face, brushing away a few stray tears. “What are you doing here?” he asked at last.

He did not expect Adam to drop to one knee.

“Parrish? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Ronan Niall Lynch,” Adam started, his voice cracking. He took a cleansing breath. He was still crying, but his eyes were bright, his smile was wide. “You are. The biggest pain in my ass. Seriously. I don’t know anyone who pisses me off more than you. But at the same time,” Adam sniffled, wiping his nose on his shoulder. He took Ronan’s hands in his, squeezing them tightly.

“At the same time, you are also the person I love most in the world. I didn’t even realize I was capable of that kind of love until I had met you. I thought all the poets and the musicians and the writers were just making shit up for _centuries_. And then you came along.” Adam just paused to look up at him. “You came along and I finally fucking got it.”

(Ronan was pretty sure he was crying, but they both ignored the tears streaming down his face, thank god)

“And in these last few months we’ve spent apart I realized that I don’t want to go through this life without you by my side. Yeah, we can do it, but it fucking _sucks_. You might drive me insane, but being away from you makes me even crazier. I love you so much, Ronan. So much. And I want to be with you forever. And I had a whole plan for this but _fuck_ the plan. What’s that thing you people who believe in God say?”

Ronan laughed. “Man plans and God laughs?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s the one. This is me throwing the goddamn—ha, god dammed—plan out the window.” He took another breath, hand squeezing Ronan’s just a little tighter. “So. _So_,” he said again. Laughing at himself.

(He was so goddamn beautiful, even tearstained and rumpled and exhausted. How could Ronan ever say _no_ to him?)

“So, Ronan Lynch. Will you marry me?”

Ronan dropped to his knees in front of Adam bringing them eye to eye. He wanted to kiss him senseless, he wanted to never say another word but _yes_ ever again.

“Parrish,” Ronan said, prayerful, pious (who else did he get on his knees for other than God and Adam Parrish?).

“Answer me, Ro.”

“_Yes_. Of course it’s a _yes_, Parrish. Christ.” Adam slid his mouth over Ronan’s, but before he could deepen it, Ronan pulled away. “It’s just that—”

“I thought I was the sensible one who overthought everything,” Adam said, pulling back. He sounded annoyed, but there was a grin threatening to stretch across his face. “What is it?”

“Just. Us being apart. I could barely handle being long-distance boyfriends. But long-distance fiancés? Long-distance husbands?” Adam leaned back in to press another searing kiss to Ronan’s mouth before pulling away again. “I want this. So much. But your life is in New York and mine is here—”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually,” Adam said, cutting him off. “When I was dropping you off at the airport last week.

“What?” Ronan blanched.

“We've been looking to expand, to open up our services to people living outside of New York, and I suggested D.C.” Adam was looking down at their intertwined fingers as he spoke. “Basically, I would design custom accommodations for people living all over the south. I would have to travel more, for home visits and whatever, but I could do the majority of the work from home.” He finally looked up, not at Ronan, but at the Barns. “From here, if I wanted.”

(Ronan _wanted_)

In a stunning display of self-control, Ronan did not tackle his boyfriend (fiancé, his _fiancé_) to the ground and take Adam apart on the front lawn of the Barns. Instead, he said, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Adam laughed embarrassedly. “Um, I guess there was a part of me that thought you were pushing me to accept it, even though you didn’t know about it?” He huffed out a breath, squeezing Ronan’s hands. “I think you were right, that we were just making ourselves crazy for no reason and I was just being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn.” Adam shrugged but said nothing else.

Ronan couldn’t hold himself back any longer, pouncing on him at once, and slotting their mouths together.

After a few (hundred, thousand, _million_) kisses, he said, “we need rings. We need to get rings”

“Oh,” Adam flushed. “I forgot, because you know. _Fuck the plan_.” He leaned down to pull his duffle bag open, rifling through it. At last, he pulled out a little black box. After a beat, Adam opened it. Nestled in black velvet was a ring made of a dark gray metal.

“When did you get this?” Ronan asked, looking down at the band.

“A couple of months ago?” Ronan looked up; Adam’s smile was a little sheepish. “Like right before your mom’s accident.”

“Fucking timing,” Ronan breathed.

“Fucking timing,” Adam agreed. “It’s tungsten,” he said. “It has the highest melting point of all the naturally occurring metals.” Adam took the ring from the box with carefully (Adam’s hands, his _hands_. Ronan couldn’t look away) and began to slip the ring on to Ronan’s left hand. “It reminded me of you. Strong, impossible. It also fits your aesthetic,” Adam laughed.

The ring fit perfectly.

Ronan closed the distance between them again. “Yes,” Ronan said between kisses. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

His hands had found their way up the inside of Adam’s sweater, pressing against warm skin (_he’s real, he’s real, he’s real_). Adam pulled away with a laugh, thumb swiping across Ronan’s bottom lip. “As much as I’ve missed you, I don’t think we should have sex on the front lawn with your mom just inside the house.” He pressed a kiss to Ronan’s temple.

“Oh, shit. My mom,” Ronan stood, helping Adam up with him. He had moved too quickly, vision blurring as he straightened up. Adam laughed and dragged him up the stairs towards the door.

“What’s that?” Adam asked.

Ronan followed his gaze to the duffle bag he had dropped on the porch. “Oh, uh. My duffle bag.”

“I can see that. Why is your duffle bag on the porch?”

“Because I was about to get on a train and go to New York?”

Adam didn’t respond, tugging Ronan in for a searing kiss by the collar of his shirt instead. “C’mon,” he said when he pulled away, a little out of breath. “It’s cold out here.”

Ronan led Adam inside, leaving their shoes and coats and bags at the door before moving deeper into the house. “Mom?” he called, his hand in Adam’s.

“Ronan? Did you forget some—Oh! Adam!” She rushed forward (_slow down, Ma_) to hug him. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, uh—” Adam turned to look at Ronan, silently asking for help.

“Adam is moving in,” Ronan said. Aurora turned to him; shock evident on her face. “Also we’re getting married.” Ronan held up his left hand (the one that was intertwined with Adam’s) to show her the ring.

“My goodness!” Aurora said, eyes welling up with tears. “My baby, getting _married_.” She pulled both of them into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around their shoulders. After a few moments she pulled back, looking between them. “And Adam,” she cooed, still crying, “you’ve been a part of our family for so long. I’ve considered you a fourth son for years—” she was cut off by Adam rushing forward to hug her, his own shoulders shaking with silent tears. “You make him so happy,” she whispered, it loud enough that Ronan could hear her. “Thank you.”

When Adam pulled away, the tears mostly had stopped (he swiped a few from Ronan’s face without comment). Ronan dropped a kiss on his temple, pulling him close.

“Well,” Aurora said at last. “I’m sure you two want some privacy,” she smiled at them knowingly. “I think I’m going to watch one of those very loud superhero movies Matthew likes so much in the living room.”

“_Mom_—” Ronan started, cheeks (and ears and neck) burning.

“Thank you, Aurora,” Adam said tugging Ronan away and up the stairs.

***

Later, after texts had been sent and calls had been made (_I’m just so happy for you both_, Gansey had sobbed into the phone. _Love is so beautiful_); after Adam and Ronan had taken turns taking each other apart; Adam was studying Ronan’s hand (his _left_ hand, the one with the _ring_, because they were getting _married_), a little furrow between his brows.

“What are you thinking about?” Ronan asked.

“Should I have asked permission?” Adam replied looking up at him.

“To marry me?” Ronan barked out a laugh, pulling Adam closer. “If Sargent could hear you now—”

“No,” Adam laughed, resting his chin on Ronan’s chest, looking up at him. “To move in.”

“Oh,” Ronan paused, thinking. “Nah, it’s fine.”

“It just,” Ronan groaned. He loved his fiancé (his _fiancé_, it still hadn’t worn off yet), but Adam was prone to bouts of overthinking. It was bound to happen at some point, but Ronan had hoped he could stave off the anxieties for just a little longer. “I don’t really want to sleep in a double bed in your childhood bedroom for the rest of our lives?” Ronan laughed, but Adam pressed on. “And I would say that we could move into the guest room, but that’s where your mom has been sleeping—”

“Maybe we’ll move into the master, I don’t fucking know. But we’ll figure it out, Parrish.”

“And that’s another thing.” Ronan leaned back to stare up at the ceiling with a groan. He was too sated and loose-limbed for all this _thinking_. Adam followed his movements, balancing himself over Ronan’s body to stay in his line of sight. “I want to take your name. Be Adam Lynch. Or Adam Parrish-Lynch. I haven’t figured it out yet.”

Ronan huffed out an annoyed breath. “You could change your name to fucking Adam Levine, I’m still gonna call you _Parrish_.”

Adam’s nose wrinkled adorably. “Your crush on him isn’t cute.”

Adam Parrish. What a fucking enigma.

“I can’t believe I’m willingly agreeing to marry you and spend the rest of our lives together.”

Adam took Ronan’s face in his beautiful, freckled hands. “But you are going to marry me, right?”

“Mhm.”

“And we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together?”

Ronan paused, remembering.

(There was something that he had said all those years ago on a couch in Adam and Blue’s apartment in Brooklyn Heights, back before Ronan had been lucky enough to be loved by Adam Parrish. A promise he had made then; one he had kept. One he was still keeping)

“You’ve got me as long as you want me, Adam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I wanted to write something special for the eighth instillation of this verse (because eight is my favorite number) and then this angsty (36 paged) beast happened. So. Sorry. 
> 
> Also, I may or may not be working on a version from Adam's POV because I am trash!!!! And because the whole "eight is my magic number" thing, it'll be added as a chapter later. If it I finish it. I make zero promises because midterms are upon us and I wanna die. 
> 
> Comments/Kudos are always greatly appreciated ♥︎
> 
> You can send me prompts (for this 'verse or anything really) [here](https://andtimestoodstill.tumblr.com/ask).


	2. Chapter 2

Adam Parrish was watching the love of his life (not that he would say something so utterly cheesy out loud) pack his life away into a duffle bag. He watched as Ronan folded yet another pair of black jeans and stuffed it into his bag.

“I hate this,” he said suddenly. He was trying so hard to keep it together. 

“What? Me folding my clothes? I can do it, you know; I just don’t like to.”

Adam knew that Ronan was trying to make him smile, but it wasn’t working. “You know what I mean.”

Ronan sighed and before abandoning his half-packed suitcase and settling next to Adam on the bed. “I know. Me too. But—”

“It’s your mom. You have to go. I know. I just don’t like it.” Adam moved closer to Ronan, his boyfriend slipping an arm around his waist.

(Adam also hated how needy he was being. Ronan’s mother was in the hospital. He was going back to Virginia to take care of the family farm. It wasn’t like Ronan was going on _vacation_)

“Two weeks.” Ronan said emphatically, hand smoothing across Adam’s back. “I’m gonna come back up in two weeks.”

“But not for _good_.”

Ronan, in agreeing to give up his life to move back to Virginia for the foreseeable future, had requested that Declan take care of the Barns for one weekend so Ronan could come back to New York for their anniversary. The oldest Lynch had agreed, not reluctantly, but he did seem entirely inconvenienced.

And because Ronan cared more about spoiling Adam rather than being spoiled by Adam, he insisted on coming back to New York for their anniversary. Adam was glad that Ronan was coming back of course, but the entire situation was so frustrating, Adam could barely be glad.

(He was _not_ thinking about the little black velvet box hidden inside one of the fancy leather dress shoes at the back of their closet and best laid plans. He _wasn’t_)

“I’m going to miss you,” Ronan said, mostly into Adam’s hair. “So fucking much.”

Adam tugged him closer. Ronan still needed to pack and get to the airport, but he held on to Adam just a little longer

***

“Jesus, that was the most expensive Uber of my _life_,” Ronan groaned from the other end of the line.

Adam was tucked up into their bed, phone pressed against his good ear, duvet tugged up to his chin. He was, embarrassingly, wearing one of the shirts Ronan had left behind; the soft material and its familiar scent was quite comforting. “How was your flight?”

“Fine. Fucking boring. I had an open seat next to me.”

“Nice.” He burrowed deeper into the bedding, he was comfortable enough, and exhausted enough, to sleep. 

“You eat the leftover pasta?” Ronan asked, voice soft.

“Mhm,” Adam hummed.

Ronan’s breathy little laugh from the other end made his heart feel like it was cracking open, spilling over. “Anyway, I just wanted to check in with you. I’ll go so you can get some sleep.”

“No,” Adam said a little too enthusiastically. “I just,” He struggled to find the right thing to say, a blush rising to his face. “I’d rather you stay on the line. We don’t have to talk or anything, but it’ll be easier to fall asleep, I think. Like you’re actually here.”

(Adam waited with bated breath for Ronan’s response, not sure if he could take the rejection if it came to that)

“Alright, Parrish,” Ronan said at last, the contempt in his voice entirely faked. “I’ll stay on the line.”

Ronan settled in at the Barns and Adam slept. Even 300 miles apart, they both felt more at ease when they could pretend that the other was there.

***

Adam was at his desk, drafting a new type of ramp for a physically disabled client, perfecting the mockup that he would show to them next week. He was quite proud of the design, admiring it from all angles when his phone began to ring, **Ronan** 🖤 flashing across the screen.

He answered on the second ring. “Hey.”

He could hear Ronan blow out a heavy breath. “Hey. Is this an okay time?”

Adam looked down at his desk, a smile stretching across his face. “I mean, probably not. But I don’t really care.”

Ronan laughed. “You still at work?”

“Yeah.” Adam tidied up the designs, moving them out of his direct line of sight. He wanted to be fully present in this conversation. “We had lunch catered today from that Thai place we went to a few weeks ago,” he added.

“Fuck, I miss the food in New York.”

“Not your boyfriend?” Adam joked.

“Oh, that’s a given. But right after you, it’s the food.”

Adam laughed lowly. “I’m going to tell Gansey that you miss Thai food more than him.”

“Do it.” He could hear the smirk in Ronan’s voice. “He was getting a little too chummy anyways.” Adam snorted. “Mom came home today.”

And they were back to the real world, just like that. “How’s she doing?”

“Pretty much the same, I think she’s tired of people coddling her.”

“Ah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?”

“Shut up, Parrish.” Adam could hear the blush in Ronan’s voice, and he so desperately missed his boyfriend he almost couldn’t handle it.

“I miss you,” he said at last. He couldn’t not say it.

“I miss you too, sweetheart.”

Embarrassingly, tears came to Adam’s eyes at that. Hoped that Ronan couldn’t tell that he was crying, that wasn’t fair to him.

There were few tense beats, and Adam knew that Ronan knew he was crying—

“Declan’s being his assholey self again,” Ronan finally said, thankfully changing the subject.

“I’m sure he’s not that bad.” He cleared his throat, still not acknowledging that he was sitting at his desk at work _crying_ because his boyfriend had been gone for _48 hours_.

“Yeah, I guess not.” Ronan paused, thinking. “I wish he was more of an asshole. It would make this whole thing feel more normal.”

Adam rubbed at one tired eye, trying his best to be supportive. That’s what Ronan needed at the moment. And he could handle that. He really could.

“You’re just gonna have to get along with him, I think.”

“But I don’t _wanna_,” Ronan whined. That sound made a low, breathy laugh bubble out of him. God, he missed his boyfriend. “You wanna say hi to the cows?” Ronan asked

“_Yes_.”

Ronan switched the call to FaceTime, his face popping up on Adam’s screen. The afternoon light had turned his icy blue eyes even paler, and there Ronan was, bathed in all that golden light.

“Hi,” he said, smiling softly.

Well if Ronan hadn’t known that Adam was crying before…

“Hi,” Adam replied. “You look good.”

“I know you’re at the office, so don’t start something you’re not willing to finish, Parrish,” he joked.

Adam just rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the fond smile tugging at his lips. “Show me the cows, Lynch.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, and then the video changed, and Adam was looking out at the cow pasture, all golden grass and rolling hills. There were a few cows vying for Ronan’s attention, nosing at his outstretched hand like giant, grass eating, glassy-eyed dogs.

Adam spent the next twenty minutes listening to Ronan talk to the cows, petting them, brushing grass off their coats, kissing them when Adam’s boss came in to ask him a question and he thought that Adam wasn’t paying attention, teasing Ronan once his boss had left his office.

(_Who knew you were such a sap, Lynch? Only for you and the cows, Parrish. Only for you and the cows_)

When Adam went home that night, their apartment was just a little too cold, a little too quiet. He put on some terrible network sitcom just to have the comfort of voices and canned laughter in the background as he made dinner, standing and eating at the counter when it was done.

God, he missed his boyfriend.

***

Adam woke up on Friday morning, less than a week after Ronan had left, so ridiculously lonely that he was lying in bed ten minutes after his alarm had gone off, staring up at the ceiling, thinking.

He could have just gotten up and gotten ready for work, pushed through the ache in his chest and gone on with his usual day. He could have texted Gansey, or Blue, or Henry, or Noah and begged them to hang out with him so that he didn’t feel quite so alone. He could have called Ronan and asked him to convince him to get up and go to work and to live his life.

Adam could have done any of these things, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to hear Ronan’s voice through his phone or see his face through a screen. He wanted to hug and kiss him (and do lots of other things to him). He wanted to fall asleep next to Ronan so that he could finally sleep through the night.

It really wasn’t a surprise that Adam, who’s self-control had been constantly tested all week, had trouble doing what he should’ve done and did what he wanted instead.

He quickly packed a bag, just a few changes of clothes and his toothbrush, before rushing out the door to work. In an act of what Adam could only describe as divine intervention, he made it to the office before Jonah, his boss, had arrived. He was a little haggard and worse for wear, but Adam settled at his desk to work, waiting for Jonah to come in.

As soon as Jonah was in his office, Adam strode in behind him, knocking on the jamb of the open door.

“Adam, good morning,” Jonah said with a smile, turning on his computer.

“Hi, Jonah. How are you?”

“I’m great, what’s up?”

Adam wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Um, I was wondering if it would be okay if I took a half day?” he winced internally.

“Oh,” Jonah looked genuinely surprised. Not that Jonah’s surprise surprised Adam, who was somewhere on the spectrum between a dedicated employee and a veritable workaholic. He had never asked for a half day in the three years he had worked at OmegaTech.

(The only reason Adam had any sense of a work-life balance was because of Ronan, who cooked him dinner, and snuggled up with him on the couch, and knew how to do things with his tongue that would drive any sane man crazy—)

“What for?” Jonah’s question snapped him out of his reverie.

Adam cleared his throat, trying to get back on track. “Ronan had to go home to take care of his mother, and I just…” Adam willed himself not to cry. There was no way he could handle both asking for time off at the last minute _and_ crying in front of his boss at the same time. He stepped forward and dropped into the chair in front of Jonah’s desk. “Wanted to go and see him.”

“What happened?” Jonah asked, suddenly concerned.

“She fell and tore a couple ligaments in her knee, but she singlehandedly cares for their family farm.”

Jonah nodded solemnly. “Well, I’m glad you’re going down. If you need to take Monday off—”

Adam interrupted him. “Oh, no. I’m just going to go for the weekend, I’ll be back Monday.”

Jonah shook his head amusedly, chuckling lowly. “If you change your mind, let me know. You’ve got more than enough vacation and sick leave.”

That was true, but Adam liked saving his time off so he could really enjoy the holidays, especially considering Ronan insisted on going to the Barns for every holiday he could get away with.

“I’ll let you know. Thank you, Jonah.” Adam stood and gave his boss a grateful smile.

“What time do you plan on leaving?”

“There’s a train at noon, so I’ll probably leave here before 11?”

Jonah nodded and typed something into his computer. “Alright, travel safe.”

“Thank you again,” Adam said as he backed out of Jonah’s office and got to work.

He had made it to Penn Station with plenty of time to catch his train, stopping at Starbucks for coffee before heading up stairs to the Amtrak platform. He had bought his tickets on his phone on the way to work, and thankfully after their trip to the Barns that summer for Adam’s birthday, he had enough points for a free one-way ticket.

When his train arrived, he immediately made way for the Quiet Car, a luxury he was not usually afforded when he travelled with Ronan. The three-hour train ride was more than enough time to finish up his work for the day and get ahead on his tasks for Monday.

Finding an Uber who was willing to take him more than an hour outside of D.C. was the real trouble of the day, and Adam almost regretted not telling Ronan that he was coming.

(Adam was really looking forward to the look on Ronan’s face when he opened the door)

So Adam took the most expensive Uber of his life, coasting through the Virginian countryside. He wasn’t sure of the last time he had seen the beginnings of fall in Virginia, and he didn’t want to dwell too much on the thought as the car neared the driveway of the Barns.

“It’s this next right,” he told the driver. “With the white fence.”

“Thanks,” the driver replied, slowing down enough to make the turn. 

Adam watched, entranced, as the Barns came into view. Even being that much closer to Ronan settled something in him that had been threatening to shake loose over the last week. At last, the car stopped, and Adam hastily moved to get out.

“Thank you,” he said the driver before he closed the door. He made sure to give a driver a hefty tip to make up for the miles he had to drive out of the city, and he didn’t want to think about how much he had spent to make this happen. That wasn’t what this was about.

With a deep, cleansing breath Adam headed up the stairs to the front door knocking loudly, three times. He had to wait a few moments, but he could hear the floorboards creaking from the outside, a smile dawning on his face.

The door swung open and Ronan (Ronan, _Ronan_) was standing there, barefoot, in a pair of ratty, too-short jeans and a threadbare black t-shirt.

(Adam wanted to take him right there on the front porch)

“Parrish?” he asked, his face awash with total and utter disbelief. But there was something else there as well, something akin to awe.

(The train and the uber and the _waiting_ had been worth it, just for that stupid, love-struck expression on Ronan’s face)

“Hi,” Adam tried to keep himself from smiling too broadly. “You’re right, that Uber was really fucking expensive.”

Ronan didn’t say anything, seemed like he couldn’t stay anything. He rushed forward to hug Adam tightly instead, Adam’s bag dropping to the porch soundly as his arms came around Ronan’s shoulders, fingers twisting in the soft material of Ronan’s shirt. “What are you doing here?” he asked at last, all the air knocked out of him.

“I took a half day,” Adam could feel tears pricking to his eyes, burrowing his face in Ronan’s shoulder to soak up the tears. “I just missed you. So much.”

Ronan pulled back just enough to slide his mouth over Adam’s, kissing him like they hadn’t seen each other in months, not just a few days.

(It was a little pathetic, really. Just how much Adam missed Ronan. Just how much they missed each other. But Adam wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, to love someone so much that it _physically hurt_ to be away from them—)

There was a voice from somewhere inside the house. “Ronan!” Aurora called. “Who is it?”

“C’mon, Parrish,” Ronan pulled back, smiling like a goon. He took Adam’s hand and led him into the house. “You will not believe who showed up, Ma,” he called out to his mother.

When they finally rounded the corner into the dining room Aurora’s face broke out into a bright smile and cheered, “Adam!” from her seat. Ronan pressed a kiss to Adam’s temple before he stepped away. Adam leaned down to hug Aurora, she squeezed him tightly before pulling back.

“Sit,” she said, and Adam followed suit. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I missed Ronan, I guess. So I took a half day off of work and got on a train before I could change my mind,” Adam shrugged, abashed.

Aurora just smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “I’m so glad you’re here. He’s missed you terribly, he won't say that, of course. But I can tell how tough this is for him,” she kept her voice low, so that Ronan wouldn’t overhear them. “And for you, too.” Aurora sniffled and wiped at her nose with her napkin. “But none of that now,” she smiled at Adam again. “Tell me how you’ve been since I last saw you.”

Adam gave Aurora a brief summary of his projects at work as Ronan came back out to the dining room, setting down a glass of water in front of his mother and a plate of lasagna in front of Adam. “Here, Parrish,” he said, dropping a kiss on to the top of Adam’s head as he sat across the table from him.

Adam immediately dug in. “God, I miss your cooking,” he said after swallowing.

“That’s why you keep me around, huh?” Ronan smiled at him wolfishly, eyebrows waggling.

(Adam was _endeared_, but he couldn’t let that show)

“Yup,” he said, keeping his voice even. “I’ve kept you around for four years because you make a pretty good lasagna.”

“_Pretty good_?” Ronan slid his foot against Adam’s under the table, heat rising from the place that their socked feet were pressed together. “You hear that, Ma? He called your lasagna _pretty good_.”

“I hate to side with Adam—”

“This is ridiculous.” Ronan sounded genuinely dumbfounded. “I will not accept this.”

“It’s very good, love. Just not as good as mine.”

Adam couldn’t help but snicker at that, trying to hide the smile cracking across his face behind his napkin. Ronan lightly kicked at his foot and intoned, “it’s not fair for the two of you to gang up on me.”

All Adam could do was shrug glibly, “too bad.”

Ronan scoffed and turned his attention back to his dinner, muttering under his breath. “What was that?” Aurora asked, her tone light, a laugh hidden there.

“Just the nerve of you two,” Ronan couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him. “My boyfriend and my mother. If you the two of you don’t love my cooking unconditionally—”

Adam rolled his eyes and nudged his bare ankle with his socked foot. “I love you,” he said. “And not just for your cooking.”

That comment seemed to set fire to something in Ronan’s gaze, an ember that burned all through dinner and dishes, until Ronan was tugging him up the stairs, lips barely leaving Adam’s skin as he ascended them backwards.

“C’mon, Parrish,” he said against the sensitive skin of Adam’s neck. “I’ve got plans for you.”

Adam’s laugh echoed through the empty hallway. He let himself be dragged into Ronan’s bedroom to be taken apart with hands and lips and tongues and teeth.

***

Adam woke up before the sun when Ronan, who was wrapped up in Adam’s arms, tried to pry his way out of Adam’s grasp and climb out of bed.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, tightening his arms around Ronan’s middle.

“I need to feed the animals,” Ronan replied, voice raspy with sleep. He was finally able to loosen Adam’s grip enough to sit up, the stark lines of his tattoo cutting across his back. Adam sat up as well, molding his body to Ronan’s spine, dropping a kiss to the juncture of Ronan’s neck and shoulder. “Go back to sleep, Parrish.”

“Let me help you,” Adam said, lips pressed against Ronan’s warm skin, palms spread against the taut muscles of Ronan’s stomach. “I’m up anyways.”

Ronan sighed, relaxing under Adam’s touch. “Alright. Wear something you’re okay with getting dirty.” He rolled out of bed and started getting dressed. Because Adam was limited to the what he had brought with him from New York, he wore Ronan’s clothes to take care of the animals.

Adam was in charge of feeding and collecting the eggs from the chickens. Apparently, the chickens did _not_ like Ronan. They seemed docile enough, but as soon as Ronan had come near the chicken coop, the flock of them started squabbling madly, bum rushing his boyfriend seemingly without cause.

“Why do they hate you?” Adam asked, trying to shoo the last chicken back towards the coop.

“No fucking idea, Parrish. You got the eggs?”

Adam held up a basket in assent, and Ronan nodded. Adam led the way back up to the house, basket of farm fresh eggs hanging from his hand. He turned to ask Ronan something, pausing as he recognized Ronan’s expression.

He was no stranger to Ronan staring, to taking in Adam’s form. It had been happening since before they were even together. There was something so heart achingly familiar to the burn of Ronan’s gaze.

(It felt so fucking _good_)

“I’m not gonna kiss you when you’re literally covered in shit,” Adam said smugly. 

“Fuck off, Parrish.” Ronan laughed and looked away, color rising to his cheeks.

“C’mon, Lynch. I’m starving.” Adam skipped up to the house, being careful not to accidentally throw any of the eggs from the basket. He left his shoes at the back door and padded into the house.

Adam left the basket of eggs on the counter and sidled up to the sink so he could wash his hands. He heard Ronan come into the house behind him, floorboards creaking under his feet as he made his way to the kitchen. Adam could feel Ronan’s gaze across the back of his neck, and he turned to smile at him over one shoulder. “You know, I miss your cooking, but you better wash your goddamn hands before you make my breakfast.”

Ronan chuckled under his breath, sidling up to Adam at the sink. “Don’t blaspheme where my mother could hear you.” He pressed a kiss to Adam’s temple.

Adam watched Ronan cook breakfast over his coffee, so sure that he looked like some sort of love-struck fool, watching his boyfriend move with such confidence around the kitchen. “You really like it here, huh?” he asked as Ronan buttered a piece of toast.

“What?” Ronan glanced up at him. “I mean, yeah. For a long time I thought that this is what I’d be doing for the rest of my life.”

“Really? When was this?”

Ronan buttered a piece of crusty, homemade bread. “Uh, when I graduated from Aglionby, I guess. The only reason I went to Parsons was because my mom wouldn’t let me live with her at the Barns until I had graduated from college.”

Adam paused. “I didn’t know that.” He could hear the strain in his voice as he spoke, he hoped Ronan couldn’t recognize it. “I thought you wanted to come back because this was where you grew up—”

Ronan cut him off. “I changed my mind. When I moved into Monmouth with Gansey and Noah.” He turned off the burner and scooped eggs on to a plate. “It was the first place that wasn’t the Barns that had ever felt like home at that point. I like New York, love it even. When I get to be around people I care about.”

(There was an unspoken end to this statement: _It was for you, Parrish_)

Adam bit his lip and set aside his coffee. He walked over to Ronan, hands coming up to frame his face. “I love you.” He tried to convey more than those three words, and by the soft curve of Ronan’s brow he understood. 

“Love you more,” he turned his head to press a soft (so _soft_, how anyone thought that Ronan was only snark and ice was beyond him) kiss to Adam’s palm. “Let’s eat.”

(Adam had always loved Ronan’s eggs, but he didn’t understand how he made them taste so fucking good. _Butter, Parrish_. He said when Adam had asked. _Anything will taste good if you use enough butter_)

When Aurora woke, Ronan went off to help her out of bed and Adam cleared away their dishes, stacking the rinsed plates next to the sink and wiping down the counters. Adam heard Ronan walk back into the counter, glancing over his shoulder to smile at him.

Ronan didn’t return his smile, he barely looked Adam in the eye as he moved around him, firing up the stove to start his mother’s breakfast. Aurora was seated at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and reading the paper as Ronan cooked, his silence spoke volumes.

Once Aurora’s breakfast was done, Ronan turned off the stove and delivered his mother her food. “I need to shower,” he said before stalking out of the kitchen.

“_Ronan_,” Adam felt himself call after him, but his boyfriend stomped up the stairs.

“What’s got his knickers in a knot?” Aurora asked, peering after him.

“I don’t know.” He turned to look at Aurora. “Did he give you any silverware?”

Aurora looked down. “Ah. No.”

Adam laughed humorlessly, opening the drawer next to the sink, grabbing a fork and knife and bringing it over to Aurora. “I’m going to…” he trailed off, jerking his head towards the stairs. Aurora nodded as she sipped her coffee and Adam padded upstairs. He waited in Ronan’s room while he showered, checking his email on his phone but he couldn’t quite focus on it, thinking.

It was easy to tell when Ronan was mad, but sometimes it was impossible to tell _why_. Adam didn’t want to be irritated by Ronan’s temper, but he couldn’t help it. He came all this way, he put his own life on hold, to come down here to spend time with Ronan and now his stupid boyfriend was sulking in the shower for no reason.

There were a collection of photographs crowding Ronan’s nightstand. Among them was the framed photo Adam had given him for his 22nd birthday, which Adam hadn’t even realized was missing from their apartment. One of Adam’s favorites was a shot from Ronan’s graduation, he was dressed in his black cap and gown, smirking haughtily at the camera, but Adam only had eyes for him.

Adam thought about that version of them. The Adam and Ronan who thought that the whole world was theirs for the taking. He wondered how they could have handled all of this.

When Ronan returned from the shower, he didn’t seem surprised to find Adam sitting on his bed. He stood in front of his dresser, dropping his towel (Adam was _not_ looking at his ass because Ronan was pissing him off and he did _not_ deserve to be checked out at the moment) and pulling on a pair of black boxers.

He continued to get dressed, still facing away from Adam when he asked, “When’s your train tomorrow?”

“Noon.” Ronan nodded but didn’t turn around. “What’s wrong, Ronan?”

He saw Ronan’s shoulders hunch up towards his ears before he turned around. “Don’t take this the wrong way.” He buttoned his jeans and grabbed a shirt from his dresser, coming to sit next to Adam on the bed.

Adam laughed humorlessly, falling back against the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He felt Ronan do the same, taking his hand in his. “Just tell me,” Adam pleaded.

Ronan did his smoker’s breath before speaking. “I love having you here, but it’s hard, Adam. It’s so fucking hard.” Ronan squeezed his hand, and Adam squeezed back. “Knowing that at any point one of us could get on a train or a plane or in a fucking car… I think that pretending that it’s only miles is just gonna hurt us in the end.” Adam turned slightly, studying Ronan’s profile as he spoke. “We don’t know how long this is going to last, and I think it’ll be easier if we schedule time to be together. Give us both something to look forward to.”

Ronan had brought up a good point. A few good points, as much as Adam hated to admit it. But he had missed Ronan so much and had wanted to see him so badly that he hadn’t thought about any of this through like he normally would have.

Adam hated the pricking of tears in his eyes as he spoke, but Ronan was still staring up at the ceiling. “You’re right. It’s just,” he rolled on to his side, Ronan watching his movements. He reached out and swiped the tears from Adam’s cheeks. “I missed you, and this is the longest we’ve ever been apart and... And I didn’t know it could feel like this.”

(It just hurt. Why did it _hurt _so much?)

Adam sighed, Ronan turning fully to one side to face him. “I never wanted to be one of those guys who was nothing without their partner—”

“You’re not,” Ronan insisted, squeezing his hand.

Adam chuckled lowly, a little unconvinced. After a moment, he leaned over and kissed the tip of Ronan’s nose, a light blush spreading across the bridge of his nose. “I’m just saying that you’re my favorite person to be around,” Ronan blushed a little darker. “And I missed you, and I had a moment of weakness where I could pretend that our biggest problem were the miles between us. But you’re right,” he said again (he didn’t mind Ronan being right, but Adam hated being wrong). “This is bigger than all that.”

Ronan tugged him closer, Adam rolling on top of him; pressing his tearstained face into Ronan’s chest. “We’re gonna be okay,” Ronan assured him, arms circling around Adam’s back even tighter.

“You’re still coming up next week, yeah?” Adam asked once he had stopped crying, still balanced on top of his boyfriend.

Ronan kissed Adam’s hearing ear, so heartbreakingly tender. “Try to fucking stop me.”

***

Later that evening, Ronan was standing in the kitchen, packing up a few left-over pieces of lasagna into a basket.

“What are you doing?” Adam tried peering around Ronan’s frame into the basket, but his boyfriend blocked his view.

Ronan finally turned; eyes narrowed. Adam recognized that expression, it wasn’t something that came naturally to Ronan. It was the look he gave Adam when he was trying to be nonchalant, missing casual by a mile. “Nothing.”

“Ronan,” Adam said lowly, backing him against the counter. “_Ronan_,” he intoned, the shiver running through his boyfriend making him smile. “What are you doing?” he asked against a sensitive spot on Ronan’s neck, pressing a searing kiss there.

Ronan’s breath was shaking through him. “I thought,” he hissed as Adam nipped at the column of Ronan’s neck, smiling against him as Ronan struggled to get his breathing back under control. “We could have a picnic.” Adam’s tongue soothed the place he had bitten. “Under the stars. With the cows.”

Adam pulled back, just enough to look at Ronan. “Ronan Lynch, you fucking sap.”

Ronan just rolled his eyes, ignoring the blush staining his cheeks. “Shut up, Parrish. I love you or whatever.” He dropped a kiss on Adam’s forehead, “stop being so damn surprised.” Adam surged forward to properly kiss him.

(He wasn’t sure if he had ever loved him more)

***

Going back to New York was heart breaking, even though he knew Ronan would be back in a few days. He didn’t do any work on the train back, staring out the window like the absolute cliché he was.

On Friday afternoon (Adam worked through lunch so he could leave an hour early) he met Ronan at LaGuardia, as promised. His boyfriend, the fucking sap, had procured flowers from somewhere, clutching a bouquet of yellow roses as he walked toward Adam.

Adam met Ronan halfway, launching himself into Ronan’s arms like they hadn’t seen each other four days ago.

“Hi,” Ronan said into Adam’s hair, keeping him hovering just above the ground. He slowly lowered Adam, smiling Adam’s smile down at him.

“Hi,” Adam was smiling like a fool up at him. “What are these?” Adam reached for Ronan’s hand, trying to grab the flowers, but Ronan held on.

“Just a gift for my boyfriend for his anniversary.” Ronan’s smile turned teasing. He held out the flowers for Adam to take. “Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”

(_His_ anniversary, Adam smiled at the thought. Since their first year together, they had celebrated their anniversary twice a year. _Adam’s _anniversary was in October, and _Ronan’s _anniversary was in January. At least, that was how they explained it to people)

Adam finally kissed him.

They took their time getting out to the curb and going to the Uber pick up, holding hands the whole way. “You hungry?” Adam asked.

“No, not yet.” Their car pulled up and Ronan loaded his duffle bag into the trunk. “But I want Korean BBQ for dinner.”

Adam laughed, buckling into his seat as the driver pulled away from the curb. “Yeah?”

“I’m telling you; I missed the food so fucking much.”

“Alright, but let’s go home first.” Ronan smiled at him luridly, eyebrows waggling. Adam just rolled his eyes, taking Ronan’s hand back in his.

He watched Ronan take in the city, staring out the window of their car. Ronan had lived in New York for almost eight years, Adam hadn’t realized how much he must have missed the city. The ride back to their apartment was quick, the only real benefit to flying into LaGuardia. Adam told Ronan this as they got out of the car.

“It still sucks, Parrish,” he said as he took his bag out of the trunk. He leaned into the open door of the Uber. “Thank you.” He closed the door and the car drove off. Ronan stopped, looking up at their apartment.

They had moved to Crown Heights together after they graduated, to a tiny shoebox of a thing with uninsulated windows. Apartments in Brooklyn were either classic-looking two- or three-story walk ups, or ugly flat-sided buildings built in the 70s. When their lease was up, it had been decided that the extra cost of rent for a building that was better maintained and a little less depressing to look at was absolutely worth it.

So they moved a few blocks west to St. John’s Place (a fact that seemed to delight Ronan to an excessive degree, until his mother started checking in every Sunday to make sure he went to Mass) in one of those beautiful, historic brownstones that was converted to five units back in the 80s.

“C’mon,” he tugged on Ronan’s hand. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Adam had panic cleaned the apartment the night before. The only benefit to Ronan being away (literally the only one, Adam had more than enough time to think about it) was that Adam could be a slob. He left the bed unmade and his dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom and a mountain of coffee mugs in the sink.

However, he didn’t want Ronan to _know_ that he was living like a slob while he was gone for fear of his boyfriend worrying about Adam when he should be worrying about the cows (and his mother, of course).

So when Adam had gotten home from work, he had cleaned. First throwing their sheets in the wash (despite knowing that he would have to clean them again before the weekend was up), then cleaning the floors, and then washing the dishes.

He also checked on the ring box in their closet. When Adam had bought the ring (a mere _ten days_ before Aurora’s accident, because the universe thought that his life was a fucking _joke_), he had struggled to find a decent hiding place for it. It wasn’t like they had a lot of personal boundaries. If Ronan ran out of clean underwear (which happened a lot, like alarmingly often. Adam bought him more at every gift-giving holiday, and Ronan still seemed to be in a boxer deficit), he had no qualms about taking a pair out of Adam’s drawer (now that he was thinking about it, Adam was pretty sure that his boyfriend just liked wearing his underwear, which was annoyingly endearing).

So he couldn’t put the ring in somewhere cliché, like his sock drawer, if he wanted any hope of keeping it hidden. It took half an hour of anxiously pacing around their apartment until he had settled on a location. There were a pair of nice dress shoes at the back of their closet that Adam had tucked the little black box into. It was perfect because one, they had to be kept in a cloth drawstring bag to help protect them, and two, Ronan _hated_ the shoes. He had some sort of personal vendetta against them, sneering at the sight of the shoes every time Adam wore them.

Adam pulled the white dust bag from the depths of their closet, sitting on the floor and pulling the shoes out. The black velvet box fell into his hand, a comforting little weight settled there. He didn’t want to open the box, for fear that the sight might ignite something in him; that it might cause him to do something very stupid this weekend. He put the box back into the left shoe and tucked the bag up on a high shelf.

“It looks nice in here,” Ronan said, dropping his duffle bag by the door. Adam came in behind him, locking the door after it closed.

“Don’t be an ass,” Adam quipped. He hated the way his boyfriend could see right through him.

Ronan smirked at him over his shoulder and Adam felt something settle in him. This was familiar and perfect and well, it wasn’t any surprise that Adam dragged him by the front of his shirt, mouths slotted together, to their bed.

(He had to throw the sheets in the wash that night, the machine humming in the background as they ate Korean BBQ on the floor of their living room)

*** 

Ronan woke Adam the next morning with a plate stacked high with waffles. This, too, was a tradition; one four years in the making.

Four _years_.

It had passed in a blink of an eye, but Adam had cherished _every goddamn second_.

(Even the seconds that Ronan had snipped at him. And the seconds that Adam snipped back. The seconds that dragged on while Ronan was away, and every second he spent with Ronan pressed to his side)

“Thank god,” Adam rasped, taking the plate from Ronan’s outstretched hand. “I’ve been eating Frosted Flakes for breakfast every day since you left.”

Ronan chuckled, spreading butter on to his own waffle. “You’re gonna get sick of that stuff.”

Adam scoffed, “I could _never_.”

Ronan’s smile was a fond thing, spreading across his face. “If you say so, Parrish. Coffee?”

***

Adam had asked Ronan _weeks_ ago what he wanted to do for his birthday. He couldn’t quite hold it against him that Ronan couldn’t decide, he _was_ a little preoccupied. The idea came to Adam in the middle of the night when he was definitely not thinking about how much he missed Ronan and was considering calling him. In an impressive display of self-control, he texted Ronan instead.

_How do you feel about Philadelphia?_

He didn’t receive a response until early the next morning, when Ronan was awake and tending to the farm.

**Ronan **🖤**: **_in general? i think it’s full of a bunch of fucking yankees_

Adam, who had just woken up, laughed despite himself. He was a little glad that Ronan wasn’t around to see just how amused he was.

_For your birthday, shithead_

_It’s halfway between Virginia and NY_

_We could get a hotel, sight see, eat cheesesteaks_

It wasn’t until Adam was walking to his subway stop that Ronan replied.

**Ronan **🖤**: **_sounds perfect_

Adam took it upon himself to plan their trip. He booked train tickets and reserved a hotel and came up with a detailed itinerary that made the most of the city and their very limited time together.

He rushed out of the office the Friday before Ronan’s birthday; duffle bag thrown over his arm. He had pointedly left the ring box at home; not sure he could be around a naked Ronan Lynch and not propose right then and there. Adam made it to Pennsylvania station with enough time to grab a quick sandwich before his train arrived.

**Ronan **🖤**: **_boarding my train, i’ll see you in approx 90 mins_

**Ronan **🖤**: **_i’ll be the hot guy dressed in all black, in case you’ve forgotten what i looked like_

Adam only sent back a barrage of heart emojis (like a fucking _teenager_) as he boarded his own train, settling into his seat. He didn’t bring any work along with him. They only had a little over 24 hours together; everything else could wait.

Their trains arrived at 30th St. Station within a few minutes of each other, but somehow Ronan was waiting for Adam at his platform when he stepped off, casually leaning against a concrete pillar, smirking deliciously.

(Adam hadn’t forgotten what he looked like, _thank you very much_, but there was no denying that Ronan _was_ the hot guy dressed in all black)

Adam couldn’t help it, throwing himself into Ronan’s arms as soon as he was close enough. He pulled Ronan down to kiss him, slipping his tongue into Ronan’s mouth without warning. When Ronan pulled away a few minutes later, he was breathing heavily.

“You know when they dubbed this place _the city of brotherly love_, I don’t think this is what they meant.”

“Shut up,” Adam kissed him again. “The Quakers are a very open-minded people”

Ronan’s laugh barely made it off of Adam’s lips, it was a quiet thing; just for them.

“Let’s go,” Adam tugged on his arm. “We need to check in to our hotel.”

Ronan smiled down at him lecherously, as if he could read Adam’s mind. “If we must.”

(They didn’t leave their hotel the entire trip, Liberty Bell and cheesesteaks be dammed)

***

Adam had, like at every other gift-giving holiday of the last four years, bought Ronan a pack of boxers for his birthday; further subsidizing his underwear debt. When he got back to the city his duffle bag was lighter than he expected. After unpacking it, Adam understood why.

_I know you stole more of my underwear, you absolute perv_

**Ronan **🖤**: **_yours are more comfortable than mine_

**Ronan **🖤**: **_you should just break in all of my underwear_

**Ronan **🖤**: **_i love u?_

_You’re still a perv_

After a moment, he added:

_I love you, too_

***

Every Monday morning there was an all-staff meeting at the OmegaTech office. Most of the time, it was just an opportunity for HR to let them know if there were any birthdays that week, or for Jonah to announce new projects.

There was a different kind of energy in the conference room the Monday before Thanksgiving. Adam took his usual seat (closest to the carafe of Starbucks dark roast that their office manager, Clarissa, brought in every week) and poured himself a cup.

“Good morning, and happy Monday!” Jonah cheered from the front of the room. He smiled brightly despite the tired titters from his employees. “I hope you all had a restful weekend. As we prepare for the new year, the Board has been talking about expansion. We have not decided quite yet where we want to go, but it is in my opinion, as well as the Board’s, that one of our established engineers,” Jonah looked around the room expectantly, “one of _you_, would head this new venture.”

“Could you _imagine_? I’d rather _die_ than leave the city,” Ginger said under her breath from Adam’s good side. She had been a year ahead of him at Columbia, and Adam had an embarrassing crush on her his freshman year and spent most of their shared calculus class staring at her from across the lecture hall. Now, she was his closest friend in the office.

Adam barely heard her. His thoughts were a storm he could not weather. Jonah was continuing to talk, but Adam wasn’t listening.

“What about D.C.?” Adam asked, his question surprising even him.

“What was that?” Jonah asked, eyebrows raised.

“D.C.,” Adam said slowly. “For the new office.”

“Oh,” Jonah nodded thoughtfully. “We hadn’t thought about DC. But yes,” he wrote something down in the notebook he perpetually kept in arm’s reach. “That’s a great idea, Adam. Come by my office after the meeting and we can talk.”

Adam could feel Ginger’s gaze hot on the side of his face, but he ignored it; nodding mutely as Jonah continued on with the meeting.

“So, D.C., huh?” Jonah asked, sitting at his desk. He was smiling openly at Adam, but he couldn’t help but feel unsettled by the expression.

“Yeah, I mean.” Adam paused, picking at a cuticle. “It’s a metropolitan area but would be convenient home base for lots of other southern cities.”

“It would,” Jonah agreed thoughtfully. “And I think that the Board would agree. It’s just a matter of finding someone, or _someones_, willing to make the move.”

“You would probably only need one person at first. There’s no reason why engineers at the New York office couldn’t design accommodations for clients anywhere in the country. We’d just need someone nearby to do home visits.”

“You seem to have given this a lot of thought.”

“I mean, you just told us this morning.”

Jonah laughed. “Adam,” he started. “I think _you_ would be great for this position.”

It was perfect, wasn’t it? This was the solution that he had been looking for since Ronan had left, taking half of Adam’s heart with him.

But it didn’t _feel_ perfect. It didn’t _feel_ easy. Adam would have rather handed Jonah the other half of his broken and bloody heart than say _yes_.

_Why_? Why was he so hesitant to accept? Why did it feel like such a giant concession?

“I don’t know, Jonah.”

“Look,” Jonah said softly. “Think about it. Talk it over with Ronan. I know it’s a big ask, but I think you would excel in the position. The board will want a decision from me by the New Year. But the job is yours if you want it.”

Adam nodded silently and stood, leaving Jonah’s office and collapsing at his desk. There was a photo pinned to the wall of him and Ronan at the Barns, huddled up together on the front steps, Ronan’s arm around his waist. Matthew had taken the photo on Adam’s last birthday, the two of them sunburnt and smiling brightly.

If he took the job, he could have that all the time. But why didn’t Adam want it?

Adam barely got any work done that day, spending endless minutes staring at his computer screen, dutifully ignoring his phone. He couldn’t be quite sure that he wouldn’t do something stupid if he had the chance.

When 5 o’clock came around, the office steadily emptied, until it was just Adam and Romero, the nightly custodian, emptying trash cans and vacuuming the floors. Adam had so much work to catch up on, and so little motivation to go back to his cold, empty apartment. What he wanted was Ronan, his familiar smell and sounds. He was the thing that made their apartment feel like home. He was the thing that breathed life into their brick walls and hardwood floors.

Adam’s phone began to buzz violently, like Ronan knew that Adam was pining from 300 miles away. He answered on the third ring.

“Hey,” he breathed into the receiver, waiting for the comfort of Ronan’s voice.

“Hi.” There it was.

Adam immediately switched into good boyfriend mode, remembering what today was. “How was your mom’s appointment?”

Ronan sighed; Adam could picture the way his hand must have been scrubbing across the back of his head. “Not great. The doctor is worried that her progress is stagnating.”

Adam looked down at his empty coffee mug, unimpressed. He was tired and needed more caffeine. “I thought you said she was doing better?”

“She is, but she’s still not at 100%. And the doctor doesn’t know when, or even _if_, that will happen.”

Adam could hear the defeat in Ronan’s tone. “Oh baby,” he sighed, not sure of the best way to comfort him; but sweet talking was never a bad way to comfort his boyfriend. He reluctantly smiled at the little anguished sound Ronan made, but he didn’t comment on it. “So what’s the plan?” he asked at last.

He sighed again. “We’re gonna go back in two weeks, if there hasn’t been enough improvement, she’s going to start physical therapy.” Ronan paused, thinking. “I knew she wasn’t going to get the all clear today, but I thought that he would at least know when she would be fully recovered.”

Ronan had admitted a few weeks ago that most of the time he spoke to Adam on the phone, he did it from the back-porch stairs. It made it easier to pretend that Adam was right there with him.

(That had, remarkably, broken Adam’s heart even further. But why was it still so impossible for him to accept the job?)

Adam couldn’t dwell on it too much, not when he was exhausted and sad and fucking starving. “I miss you too.”

Ronan paused for a few beats. “Mom says that we should look into getting a farmhand.”

That piqued Adam’s interest. “You still don’t like the idea, huh?”

“It’s our _family_ farm, you know? It should be run by family.” He sighed heavily. “But if it the doctor can’t give us a realistic timeline soon, we’re gonna start looking for one.” Adam could hear the reluctance in his voice, his own reaction to this news was something he would have to sort through after a full night of sleep.

(Not that Adam had gotten a full night of sleep since Ronan had left)

“You’ll figure it out.” Adam paused. “_We’ll_ figure it out.”

“I love you, so fucking much.”

“I have that effect on people,” Adam smirked and hoped it read over the phone. His computer _ding_-ed with a new email from one of his clients, asking a few questions that were easy enough to answer; so he did.

“What was that?” Ronan asked.

“Just an email,” Adam finished up his reply and sent it off. 

Ronan sounded tense when he replied. “You know,” there was a terse pause. “The _no work in the bedroom_ rule still stands when I’m not there.”

Adam felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment. He cursed himself for being so careless. “I’m not in bed.”

“Where are you?”

“At the office?” he hated the way his voice picked up at the end, like it was a question and not just an embarrassing truth.

Ronan swore viciously, and Adam winced. “Why?”

He scrambled for some sort of half-truth. Dating Ronan Lynch could beat the instinct to lie out of just about anyone. He couldn’t know that Adam was freaking out 300 miles away; Adam was constantly worried that the littlest thing would set his boyfriend off, and he would drive through the night to get to him.

(_I think that pretending that it’s only miles is just gonna hurt us in the end_)

“I wanted to get ahead of my work before Thanksgiving.”

“Adam. Why the hell are you still at the office?” he asked again.

He didn’t expect his voice to crack when he said, “I don’t like to be home alone, okay?” but it had. “It’s hard to be motivated to get out of the office when I’m just going home to an empty apartment.” Adam swore under his breath, scrubbing his face with his free hand. He took a deep breath before replying. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be another fucking burden in your life—” there were tears stinging at his eyes.

Ronan cut him off. “Shut up, Parrish. You’re not a burden. You are _never_ a burden. This whole thing is fucking hard for you too.” There was a tense pause, and Adam could hear Ronan’s heavy breathing. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize—”

“Just let me finish.” Adam paused. “I’m sorry that this hurts you just as much as it hurts me.”

“God,” Adam sighed. “You think we’d be better at this by now,” he aimed for levity.

“Nah, that’s not our style.” He could hear the smile in Ronan’s voice, he wanted to _see_ it. “Will you please head home?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” Adam began to pack up. There wasn’t much more he would have gotten done anyway. “I’m going over to Monmouth for dinner tomorrow, so you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Have fun. Do something to piss Gansey off for me.”

Adam laughed, pulling his backpack on. “I’ll try. Hey, can I call you back when I get home? I don’t wanna lose you on the train.”

“Sure thing, Parrish. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Adam ended the call, and all at once it was just him and the dark office. He tried not to think about just how lonely he was as he descended the stairs and walked out into the cold New York night.

***

“And with these three roads I’ll have the longest road, and with my two hidden victory points,” Blue flipped over two of the cards sitting in front of her, “I win.” She smiled at the rest of them wolfishly, brown eyes sparkling in mirth.

There were a chorus of groans as the rest of them accepted their defeat. Adam set to the task of putting away the pieces into Settlers of Catan’s iconic red box.

“Congratulations, Jane,” Gansey said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

“Thanks, babe. Will you bring me another slice of pie?”

“Anything for the winner.”

Adam had picked up an apple pie in Williamsburg on his way from work because there was no use even _pretending_ he could cook at this point. Not with the gang.

“Dammit, Blue. I was this close to winning,” Henry moaned, arms crossed tightly over his chest. “How are you so good at this game?”

“Because I wasn’t trying to exchange sexual favors for resources.”

Henry didn’t have the decency to look even a little embarrassed. “No one was willing to give me brick! What else was I supposed to do?”

“Trade with the bank, like everybody else,” Adam replied, sliding the top of the box closed.

Henry rolled his eyes, like that was the most ridiculous thing he had heard all night, like he hadn’t offered Noah a blowjob for two bricks all of _five minutes ago_.

“You all would be lucky to get head from me,” Henry said haughtily. There were a chorus of muffled laughs that only further annoyed Henry. “I’m not kidding.”

“Henry. Buddy. My dude,” Adam placated. “My boyfriend is 300 miles away and I haven’t gotten any consistent action in almost three months and I _still_ don’t want a blowjob from you.”

Gansey snorted as he handed Blue her victory pie, settling on the couch between her and Adam. “How are you doing, by the way?” he asked. “Forced celibacy aside, of course.”

Adam sighed. All night long he had felt weightless, as long as he didn’t think about Ronan too much. It was almost too easy to pretend that his boyfriend was in the next room, or that he would be waiting for Adam at their apartment, opting out of board game night a per usual. Now the fantasy was destroyed; he was being dragged back down to earth.

“Just about as well as you’d think.” Gansey nodded somberly, like he completely understood. And he probably did, to a point. Ronan was his best friend, and Gansey obviously missed him too. Looking around at the sober expressions on his friend’s faces, it seemed like they all missed Ronan in their own special ways.

“Thanksgiving will be nice,” Blue said through a bite of pie.

She and Gansey were coming to the Barns for the holiday, only annoying the Ganseys, seeing that Thanksgiving was not widely recognized at 300 Fox Way.

“Yeah,” Adam felt a small, but genuine, smile spread across his face. “It will be. He’s gonna come back up here for the weekend. That will be great.”

“No moms or brothers to overhear you two going at it like a couple of horny teenagers?”

Adam had no reason to be embarrassed in front of his friends, so he barely blushed at Blue’s comment. “That is the idea, yeah.” Adam looked down at his phone. “Crap, I should go. It’s getting late.” Adam stood and stretched.

“Let me drive you,” Gansey offered.

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Gansey smiled up at him openly and then stood. He gave Blue another kiss before disappearing down the hall to find his keys.

“Bye, guys,” Adam leaned over Blue, arms circling around her shoulders, chin balanced on her head.

“We’ll meet at Penn Station tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mhm,” Adam squeezed her once before stepping away. They were all taking the train together as soon as Adam and Blue were done with work. “Love you, night.”

“Love you, too.” She pulled Adam down enough to press a kiss to his cheek. He reveled in the casual touches, feeling so touch starved since Ronan had left.

(He even felt starved for Ronan’s touch when his boyfriend was right in front of him, strong, callused hands touching him everywhere. Adam was driven crazy with wanting to be touched, and he felt drunk once it was given to him)

“Ready?” Gansey asked.

Adam bid Henry and Noah a quick goodbye before following Gansey out of Monmouth. Gansey’s shiny silver Prius was on the curb right outside the door. When he had started at Princeton and had to commute to New Jersey multiple times a week, he purchased the sensible car, much to Blue’s delight.

“Gansey, I don’t want you to lose your parking space. I’ll be fi—”

“Don’t say you’re fine, because I know you’re not.” Gansey swung the keys around his finger. “I want to make sure you get home safely. It’s worth losing my spot.”

Adam ignored the blush burning at his cheeks, following Gansey into the car. It wasn’t a long drive from Bed-Stuy to Crown Heights, even in New York traffic. There was a spot open right across the street from Adam’s apartment that Gansey pulled into without comment.

It dawned on Adam that this was all a ploy to talk to Adam privately when Gansey turned off the car and didn’t move to get out.

“Seriously, Gansey—” Adam tried to sound annoyed, but he was too tired for it to be convincing.

“I can tell that something’s bothering you Adam; I know that you also don’t want to bother Ronan with your issues, even if it’s just to vent. So, let me be the void in which you scream into to release some of that tension you’re carrying around.”

Adam sighed, but he wasn’t going to lie and say that Gansey was _wrong_. He was stressed and upset and the one person he wanted to talk to about it was the one person he _couldn’t_ talk to about it.

“It’s just,” he started. Gansey settled in at his side, waiting. “We knew this was gonna be hard. We didn’t know how long Ronan was going to be gone for, and it sort of went unsaid that there was a chance he wasn’t gonna be able to come back. But we didn’t have time to talk about it, you know?” Gansey nodded but didn’t say anything. “There wasn’t time to come up with a plan, and it was _fine_ at first. But every fucking day it gets harder to be away from him.” Adam tried to slow down, but his feelings were like a thunderstorm; just a drizzle of rain until it wasn’t anymore.

_Warning: Flash Flood_.

“I was offered a promotion at work,” he said. “We’re expanding. and Jonah wants me to move to D.C.”

“D.C.? That’s so close—”

“_I know_,” Adam sounded hysterical to his own ears, he tried to reign himself in, but his feelings were already pouring down. “He offered me a job in fucking D.C. and I still couldn’t take it. I don’t even really know why. It’s the perfect solution, right? I get to keep my job and be near Ronan and the Barns and I _couldn’t fucking take it_. It felt—It feels,” he corrected. “Like I’m the only one who’s had to make any fucking sacrifices for us, and it sucks. It _hurts_,” Adam’s voice started to crack, tears welling up in his eyes. He didn’t stop them as they started to trail down his cheeks. “Why does it _hurt_ so much, Gansey?”

Gansey’s arms were around Adam in an instant. It was a little awkward in the car, but he didn’t seem to mind; all Gansey cared about was comforting his friend. That only made Adam cry harder.

“I don’t know, Adam,” Gansey said quietly. “And I don’t know what I can say or do to make it better.”

“I want to be with him forever, that’s why I bought the fucking ring—”

_Oh, shit_.

Adam had not meant to say that out loud.

“I mean—”

Gansey had pulled away; a new and unfamiliar expression cross his features. “You bought an engagement ring?”

Adam realized that the face Gansey was making was one of _restraint_. Like he was trying not to grin like a damn fool over the thought of Adam buying an engagement ring. There was no use in lying now. Adam collapsed against his seat and sighed heavily. “Yeah. I bought an engagement ring.”

“When?”

“Right before Aurora’s accident.”

“Oh,” was Gansey’s only reply.

Adam turned his head to look at him, his well-bred features lit eerily by the lights from the dash. “You wanna see it?”

Gansey nodded mutely and Adam opened his door, stepping out into the cold night. He pulled his coat around him a little tighter; tucking his hands into his pockets. Adam led the way to their apartment, unlocking the door and heading up the stairs.

He and Ronan lived in the only unit on the top floor. With the privacy came a little less square footage, but Adam had never minded it. He liked the way that his and Ronan’s belongings had melded together in the cramped space. Their lives were so messily intertwined, inextricably linked; it was a visual reminder of the life he had chosen.

Adam still hadn’t said anything more to Gansey after inviting him up, Gansey doing the same. He walked into his bedroom, dutifully ignoring the unmade bed, and went right to his closet, pulling down the dust bag with his dress shoes and settling uneasily on the edge of his mattress. Gansey sat down next to him and watched as Adam fished out the ring box.

He handed it to Gansey wordlessly, looking away when he opened it. “Adam…” he trailed off. There was a thickness to his voice, like he was going to cry. Adam screwed his eyes shut and waited for Gansey to close the box and hand it back to him. “It’s beautiful,” he said at last.

Adam stood and put the bag away, still facing the closet when he spoke. “There’s a jewelry store between my subway stop and my office. I’ve walked past it every day on my way to work for the last three years. And the first thing that ever really caught my eye was that ring, and I had to have it. I went to work and couldn’t stop thinking about it, so on my lunch break I went back and bought it. Paid in full.”

Adam finally turned around, but he didn’t look at Gansey’s face as he sat back down on the bed next to him. “I wasn’t even really sure I was ready to propose. But I wanted the ring so that when I was, I would have it.” He rubbed at his eyes again, wiping away the last of the tears. Adam fell back onto his bed, speaking to the ceiling more than he was Gansey. “I’m sort of glad Ronan left right after I bought it. Not that I wanted Aurora to get hurt, or whatever. But it meant that I couldn’t just up and propose without thinking about it.”

Gansey laid down next to Adam. “Have you guys talked about—”

“Getting married? Yeah. Of course. We’re forever. But…” he trailed off, unsure of himself.

“You’re not sure if you’re ready for marriage.”

“Yeah,” Adam sighed and scrubbed his face. “I’m gonna wait, until we’ve figure all this,” he waved his hand wildly, “out. Do it big. Dinner. Flowers. Post-proposal sex. The whole nine.” Adam could tell that his voice lacked any passion, but he was too tired to care.

“Are you going to be okay on your own tonight?” Gansey asked. “I didn’t mean to-to dredge up all this stuff. “

Adam wanted to say yes, to send Gansey on his way. To wallow in his misery alone. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it; couldn’t bring himself to lie. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” Gansey smiled at him reassuringly. “Let me call Blue, let her know I won’t be coming home tonight.” Adam nodded and Gansey stood.

He didn’t want to overhear Gansey telling Blue just how pathetic he was, so Adam got up and showered. After he dried off, he stepped into an old pair of Ronan’s sweatpants that Adam stole from the back of Ronan’s dresser the last time he was at the Barns. The faded Aglionby logo dated them well enough.

Gansey was sitting on the couch, still on the phone with Blue when Adam left the bathroom. “Just leave your bag by the door and I’ll take it with me tomorrow. Yeah. I love you, too. Sweet dreams.” He hung up the call, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Hey, do you have a blanket I could borrow?” he asked Adam.

Adam opened his mouth to respond before pausing. “Could you, maybe… Would you mind…”

“Sleeping with you?” Gansey supplied.

“Yeah?” Adam felt himself flush. “I just—”

“Sure, of course.” Gansey stood and moved towards the bedroom.

Adam pulled out a pair of flannel pajama pants and a shirt he had gotten during freshman orientation week at Columbia. “Here,” he held out the clothes.

“Thanks.” Gansey took the clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Adam slipped his phone out of his coat pocket and typed out a message to Ronan before plugging it in and setting on his nightstand.

_I can’t wait to see you tomorrow_

_I love you_

Gansey came out of the bathroom, Adam’s slightly too-large clothes hanging of his frame. “Which is your side?”

Adam moved over to the left side of the bed. “Though, I have gotten used to sleeping in the middle of the bed. So, sorry if I’m a bed hog.”

Gansey laughed, pulling the duvet up and over his legs. “Don’t worry about it. Blue likes to snuggle in her sleep, so I’m used to having someone all up in my personal space.”

“Same with Ronan,” Adam leaned over and turned off the lamp, thrusting the room into darkness. “Though, he wasn’t always. We platonically shared a bed once, before we were dating. Well, before he realized we were dating.” He laughed a little at the memory.

Gansey huffed out a laugh. “You two have never done anything platonically. It’s been non-stop sexual tension since I introduced you two. Even now. I didn’t think it was possible for two people who’ve been dating for 4 years to have sexual tension, but you proved me wrong.”

“Eye-fucking is a form of art.” Gansey made some kind strangled, scandalized noise in the back of his throat that made Adam laugh. “Hey,” Adam said at last, tucking his hand under his pillow. “Thank you for staying the night.”

“Of course, Adam. Good night.”

“‘Night,” he said, Adam’s eyes slipping closed.

*** 

Adam woke up to two texts from his boyfriend.

**Ronan **🖤**: **_i can't wait to see you today_

**Ronan **🖤**: **_love you more_

He felt a little better in the light of day, but that may have just been because he know that before the day was over, he was going to see Ronan again.

Adam ate his usual breakfast of Frosted Flakes and coffee as Gansey stood in front of his open fridge. “This is kind of sad, Adam,” he said blearily, obviously too tired to be unfailingly polite. Adam snorted into his coffee.

“Look, I basically live alone, and I can't cook. I bought a bunch of single-serve frozen meals, so I won't starve.”

Gansey opened the freezer. “This is somehow worse.”

“Just eat the last of the Frosted Flakes,” he pushed the box towards him. Gansey finally relented, pouring himself a bowl.

Gansey offered to drive Adam to work, listening to NPR on the way because Gansey was a retired history professor trapped in a 26-year-old’s body.

After a long day of work and somehow an even longer train ride, Adam was finally (_finally_) in his boyfriend’s arms. Ronan was waiting inside Union Station for him, ready and waiting for Adam to bodily throw himself at him. Blue and Gansey got to hug him as well, but Adam didn’t remove himself from Ronan’s side until he had to. That is to say, when they got into the BMW to head to the Barns.

“We need to stop at the store before we go home,” Ronan said in the quiet of the car.

“Okay.” Adam was leaning against the window, watching Ronan openly. “It’s still open?”

“It’s not that late,” Ronan laughed and glanced at him for just a moment. “It’s just dark.”

“Fuckin’ daylight savings.” Adam yawned and rubbed at one eye. 

Adam jumped on to the back of the cart as they walked into the store, suddenly hit with a burst of energy that could only come from bone-deep exhaustion. “What do we need?”

Ronan directed him towards an aisle at the back of the store. “Drinks and like a shit ton of butter.”

He stopped in front of the drinks, confused for a moment until, “oh shit, do we need to go to a liquor store? I forgot that you can’t buy alcohol in grocery stores here.”

“Nah,” Ronan chuckled quietly and dropped a case of Coke and dropping it in the cart. “I went the other day.”

After loading the cart with soda and juice, Adam set the cart towards the dairy aisle. Adam wrapped his arms around him in hope of keeping him warm in the refrigerated section.

(He wanted to sidle up to Ronan’s side. Use his muscled arms as another layer from the cold)

Ronan paced back and forth, presumably looking for the right kind of butter. “Wait here,” Adam pushed the cart towards him. “I’m gonna go grab a box of Frosted Flakes.”

“There’s an unopened box of Frosted Flakes at the Barns just for you.” He didn’t look up when he spoke, grabbing two handfuls of butter and dropping them in the cart.

Adam was speechless. Completely and utterly without words. He just stared at Ronan until he looked up at him. His boyfriend looked apprehensive as he said, “Parrish?”

(There was something about being _known_ that both terrified and thrilled Adam. There was much less pressure to _think_ when someone else was doing the thinking for him)

Adam gave the dairy aisle a cursory glance to make sure they were still alone (it was Henrietta, after all) before sliding his lips over Ronan’s in a searing kiss. When he pulled away, Ronan was blinking at him dazedly.

Adam took two more steps back, smirking at Ronan’s expression. He pushed the cart towards the exit. “C’mon. Take me home.

“Parrish, the _butter_,” Ronan whined, the sound pulling a laugh out of Adam’s chest. He slowed down just enough for Ronan to catch up, his boyfriend pilling yet more butter into the cart.

Well, no one said that Thanksgiving had to be healthy.

Once they had checked out and once Ronan had narrowly avoided giving him a concussion via shopping cart and once they had taken to the dark streets of Henrietta as they drove to the Barns and once Adam had greeted the other Lynches with hugs and hair ruffling and genuine smiles, Adam settled into Ronan’s bed; the sheets warm and familiar smelling.

“Stop smelling my pillowcase, you weirdo,” Ronan said from across the room.

“You’re one to talk,” Adam sat up enough to get a better look at Ronan’s abs and ass and thighs (while Ronan had been quite the gym rat since Adam had met him, farming had done wonders for the cording of muscle, well, everywhere) as he changed for bed. “You’re wearing my underwear.”

Ronan snorted before climbing into the bed next to Adam. “It’s cute.”

“It’s not,” Adam said, but he didn’t really try to be convincing in the matter. It was, admittedly, kind of cute. What was not cute was that it took four years of dating Ronan to figure it out. He did not want to think about the money had had sunk into Ronan’s boxer deficit when he should have just stimulated his own undergarment economy.

(There was a joke in there about Reganomics and _trickling_, but Adam was too tired to think about anything other than plastering himself to Ronan’s back and falling into a deep, deep sleep)

***

Ronan spent three days in New York after Thanksgiving. Adam desperately wanted to squeeze in as many activities as possible in that time and not spend the limited time they had together naked in bed (or the couch or the kitchen or the living room floor).

All things considered, Adam thought he did a pretty good job. They had dinner with Noah and Henry at Monmouth and met up with some of Ronan’s friends from Parsons who were visiting the city for the holiday for brunch. But they also spent a lot of time naked in bed (and the couch and the kitchen and the living room floor)

They woke up early Monday morning so they could go to LaGuardia before Adam had to go to work. Ronan made them breakfast before they left, but the food tasted like ash in his mouth. He could feel the time they had left together slipping away with each second.

Ronan held his hand in the Uber, mindlessly complaining about _LaGuardia_ of all things. It pissed Adam off, he was already dreading sending Ronan off, and he didn’t want to waste their rapidly decreasing time together.

“You could just take the train,” Adam said at last, an edge to his voice.

Ronan huffed out an annoyed breath, not at all cowed by Adam’s tone. “Too late for that now.”

“Hey,” Adam said lowly, “I know this fucking sucks, okay? Can you try not to ruin the last few minutes we have together?”

“Sorry,” Ronan said automatically. He took a moment to close his eyes and take a deep breath. Adam lifted their intertwined hands to kiss the inside of Ronan’s wrist, to press his lips tenderly to the gnarled mess of scars there. Ronan wiped at one eye welling with tears with his shoulder and Adam felt himself tear up in turn.

“We’ll see each other before Christmas, yeah?” he asked, hopeful.

Ronan nodded and took another deep breath. “Yeah, Matthew has a pretty long break. I think I’ll be able to come up here for a week and then we can go back down together.”

Adam didn’t want to wait that long. “I could go back down in two weeks; we don’t have to—”

“No,” Ronan looked up at him, icy blues eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you missing any more work.”

“Actually,” now it was Adam’s turn to look away. He focused on their clasped hands. It was time, Adam had put it off for far too long now. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about that—”

He was cut off by their Uber driver asking, “what airline?”

“United,” Ronan replied, eyes flitting over to the front of the car, catching the driver’s eye in the rearview mirror. “But I’m not checking a bag, so anywhere is fine.” He tuned back to Adam. “What were you saying? Parrish?”

Adam shook his head, turning away from the windown and the approaching curb. The courage he had felt just a few moments ago had disappeared altogether. “Nothing. We can, uh, talk about it later.”

“Alright,” the car finally pulled to a stop. Ronan kissed the back of Adam’s hand. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “C’mon.”

They got out of the car, taking his bags from driver and thanking him. “You have time for coffee before you have to get to work?”

“Yeah,” Adam smiled and followed Ronan to a Starbucks cart, letting his boyfriend pay for his doubly expensive coffee. They sat near the entrance to security, their few extra minutes only breaking his heart further.

***

Jonah was pushing Adam to make a decision, as much as someone as mild-mannered as Jonah could push. Adam was dutifully _not thinking about it_. Avoidance was not his usual coping mechanism, but this was not a usual situation.

Because it was Saturday Adam was home before the sun had started to set, collapsing onto the couch and eating a sad excuse for chicken alfredo that he warmed up in the microwave. Ronan had called just as Adam had started eating, describing his day in great detail.

“Mom started helping with the chores this morning. She’s not used to waking up with the sun again, though.”

Adam pushed away his food, not sure if he was full or if had just lost his appetite. “You think she’ll get back to managing everything again soon?”

Ronan paused. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“You guys haven’t talked about it?”

“No.”

Adam could feel something in him igniting. A forest fire of repressed emotions. “Have you guys looked into getting a farmhand?”

“No.” Adam fell back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “Parrish?”

“Christ, Ronan.” He pressed his face into the cushion and swore viciously. It didn’t make him feel any better. “I need to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he spat out. Adam stood and grabbed his food, throwing it in the trash, mostly uneaten. I’ve just had a shit day and I just want to go to bed.”

“Okay. Alright. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

Adam needed to get off the phone. “Yeah. Tomorrow, ‘night.” He hung up the call before Ronan could get in another word in edgewise.

He regretted that decision as soon as he had made it. Adam nearly called Ronan back to apologize, to tell him _I love you_, to hear Ronan say it back. But there was another, louder, meaner part of him (the part that was raised from the Henrietta dirt, the part that was quick to lie, the part that had taken solace as an island for all those years) that wanted to turn his phone off and go to sleep.

Adam did neither of these things. He left his phone on (the volume turned up just in case Ronan called) and crawled into bed.

He did not sleep.

***

Adam had caught a few hours of rest between the light of dawn streaming into his window and his phone ringing violently from somewhere in his sheets. He scrambled to find the damn thing, almost missing the call altogether.

“Hello?” he said as the call connected. 

“Hi,” Ronan breathed.

All of those less than kind feelings from the night before rushed back into Adam, exacerbated by distance and longing and an almost criminal lack of sleep. “What’s up?” Adam asked, steadying himself.

There was a tint of uncertainty to Ronan’s voice when he responded. “Nothing, just wanted to talk to you.”

(Adam tried to remind himself that he loved him, this was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But Adam didn’t want to listen to anyone right now, not even himself)

“Well, I’m kind of busy right now.” (Lie, lie, _lie_) “So if there’s nothing important you want to talk about…”

The uncertainty was gone when Rona spoke again, it was replaced with ice and contempt and Adam hated, hated, _hated_ it. “fine. If you don’t want to talk to me, I’ll go. Bye, Parrish.”

The line went dead.

Adam called him back immediately, an apology ready on his tongue (_I’m sorry, I love you, tell me anything, tell me_ everything). Ronan didn’t answer.

He didn’t answer the next five calls either.

With each dial, Adam grew more and more angry. His hands clenched the sheets at his sides, waiting to lay into Ronan once he answered.

He never did.

Adam was angry and had no conduit for the fire burning inside him and he just needed Ronan to fucking _listen_. So if Ronan wasn’t going to answer his stupid phone, Adam would do the next best thing.

“Adam!” Aurora cheered as she answered his call. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

(She sounded so genuinely happy to hear from him, that it made Adam burn up in embarrassment. But, well, in for a penny…)

He schooled his tone into something less flammable. The strain in his voice sounded more like concern to his ears; that would have to do. “Hi, Aurora. I was wondering if I could speak to Ronan. He isn’t answering his phone.”

“Oh,” there was a rustle of paper. “I’m not at home right now, but you know how he is about his phone…” she trailed off, seemingly unbothered.

Adam did know how Ronan was about his phone, but he hadn’t missed one of Adam’s calls at least since he had gone to Virginia, and truthfully, much longer before that. And Adam knew that Ronan was intentionally ignoring him.

But it wasn’t Aurora’s fault that her son was being an asshole, so he kept his tone level. “Right. Well, could you tell him to call me when you get home?”

“Of course, love. How are you doing by the way? I heard that there’s a storm coming your way.”

“I’m doing fine, staying warm. There’s some snow today, but nothing too bad.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thank you, Aurora.” Adam could feel his throat closing up and eyes pricking with tears. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“You too, dear. Goodbye.”

“Bye.” Adam hastily hung up the phone before she could hear the tears in his voice.

After he had composed himself, Adam sent Ronan a text.

_Hey, call me when you’ve decided to stop being a dick_.

Those eleven words felt pretty good to say, so Adam rolled out of bed and got started with his day. He found himself checking his phone periodically for texts or missed calls from Ronan, but there was nothing. Total radio silence.

It wasn’t until it was completely dark outside that his phone rang again, a photo of Ronan scowling grumpily up at him flashing across the screen. Adam took a deep breath, centering himself before he answered.

“Hi.”

He heard Ronan suck in a breath. “Hi.”

There was a pause. “You done being a dick?” Adam asked. He wasn’t quite sure if he was making a joke or not, that would be decided by Ronan’s response.

“I don’t know. I am if you are.”

Well, that decided that, then.

Adam scoffed and felt himself scowl. “Well, I don’t know if I’m done being a dick either.”

“Great. No way that this conversation can go badly.” It was obvious that Ronan was joking, but Adam didn’t feel like laughing.

“What’s up with you?” Adam asked at last.

“What’s up with _you_?” Ronan countered.

“Don’t answer a question with a question.”

“You were the one that started this whole thing—”

“Pray tell, Ronan, what did I start?”

(It was at this point that Adam desperately tried to reign himself in, but the evil, heartless, unloved version of him, the Adam that had convinced himself that he needed nothing and nobody, had taken full control of his body and mind. He was on a train driving full speed towards a cliff. There was no stopping himself now)

“The fucking hanging up on me. It serves you right to have it happen to you.”

“Oh ho, ho,” Adam spat. “I did not start that shit with you. You were the one driving me up the goddamn wall, I’m sorry if I didn’t want to hear you go on and on about how fucking perfect your life is.”

“Are you high? Do you even fucking hear yourself, Parrish? Do you think this is fucking easy for me?” Ronan countered.

“It seems pretty easy to me. You get to frolic around with the fucking animals all day like a goddamn Disney princess, while I’m busting my ass at work and generally living in the real world” Adam was furiously pacing back and forth across the living room (_their_ living room in the apartment _they_ had picked out in the neighborhood that _they_ loved. This was not the life Adam had chosen on his own, but the boy he loved was 300 miles away and Adam was absolutely sick of it).

Ronan laughed mirthlessly. “None of this job requires frolicking, fuck you very much.”

“_God_, do you even hear yourself?” Adam felt his brows draw together in contempt, mouth twisting up in annoyance. “What you’re doing isn’t a job, Lynch.”

“Isn’t a _job_?” Ronan’s voice rose. From that admission a few weeks ago, Adam knew that Ronan liked to call him from the back porch of the Barns; where it was just him and the stars and Adam’s voice in his ear. That it made it easier to imagine that Adam wasn’t 300 miles away, like he was sitting right there next to him. Adam wondered if he was sitting there now. He wondered if Aurora could hear him. If the fucking _cows_ could hear him—

“—making sure my mother can get up and out of bed every morning isn’t a fucking job? Just because I don’t get a paycheck and a fucking pension doesn’t mean that my work isn’t worth doing.”

(Adam wanted to point out that he actually had a 401k, but it seemed like a moot point)

“It’s all so goddamn easy for you,” Adam said. “This is literally what you wanted to be when you grew up, why can’t you just fucking accept that, Ronan?”

“I don’t get it. Is it or isn’t it a job, Parrish? Because you seem to be unable to make up your mind.”

That only made Adam angrier. “I just want you to admit that you don’t want to fucking come back to New York. That this is all just a really convenient fucking excuse for you to stay at the Barns forever.”

And there it was. All laid out for Ronan to hear.

“You must be out of your fucking _mind_ if you think that this is what I want. Even for a _second_. Yes, I do want to live at the Barns, but so did _you_ four years ago. What happened to that?”

“What happened to that?” Adam repeated. “You were the one who said that we should stay in New York! That’s why I took this fucking job at OmegaTech—”

“And another thing,” Ronan had only paused to take another breath, barreling back into their argument at full force. “There is no way that you and your fucking genius brain think that I have _ever_ wanted anything that meant that I couldn’t have _you_.”

That gave Adam pause. There was a buzz of static in his ears. _Both_ ears. 

Adam had just assumed that this was easier for Ronan than it was for him. Well, not easier, but _different_. That it was familial duty, but not a sacrifice. That Adam was collateral damage, something left behind.

He wondered how he got it all wrong.

“I love my mom and the Barns, and I would do anything to take care of them, but you, Parrish.” Ronan paused, sucking in a heavy breath. “You are the thing I would fucking burn it all down for. None of this could ever make me fucking happy if it meant that I had to give you up.”

Adam couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t _move_. He had caused this destruction and he didn’t know how to fix it. Wasn’t sure if it was still fixable.

Ronan sighed. “Look. I think we should take a break. Think about some things.”

That, more than the yelling and arguing and pointed words, was what ignited Adam’s flight or fight response. Just one phrase, four words; _we should take a break_. The train that was Adam’s quickly diminishing sense of self-preservation screeched to a stop.

Adam finally had control of himself again. He took a deep breath, trying not to sound like he was crying, even though he was _absolutely crying_.

“What are you saying? Are you breaking up with me?” The words tasted like ash in his mouth.

“What?” Ronan sputtered. “Fuck. No. And it’s not like that thing from that fucking show either.”

Adam paused, thoughts reeling. “_Friends_?” Ronan hummed in agreement. “Then what are you saying, Lynch?” He scrubbed a hand over his face, physically and emotionally exhausted.

“Like we should hang up and take a couple days to calm down and regroup. I think the distance is making us crazy and I sure as shit don’t want to say something I don’t mean just to be a dick.”

“Okay.” He took another steadying breath. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” Ronan repeated. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His voice broke, but he knew that Ronan would know what it meant. There was a beat before the call disconnected.

He didn’t sleep for the second night in a row.

*** 

Monday passed in a daze. Adam was exhausted and distracted, playing scenes from their fight over and over again in his head. Ginger had come by around lunch time, announcing that she was going to go to that Greek place Adam liked and _do you want to come with me? I can never finish a whole piece of baklava by myself_.

Adam had declined, if he wasn’t going to do any work, he shouldn’t take a lunch break. He sat at his desk, staring blankly at a photo pinned to the wall. It was a copy of the picture he had given Ronan for his 22nd birthday, back before Ronan had realized they were dating.

(He wanted to call Ronan. To say _fuck taking a break_. To say _sorry_. To say _marry me, please_)

At the end of the day he got on the G train as usual, but instead of walking south out of the Nostrand Ave. station, he went west. Without really even paying attention he ended up outside of Monmouth. He rang the doorbell and waited.

Gansey answered the door, hair a mess, glasses askew, polo stained with… tomato sauce? Christ, he looked as much of a mess as Adam felt. “Oh, Adam! What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk, I need…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure what he needed, or what he could even say.

“Yeah, of course. Come in.” Gansey stepped back, letting Adam inside. “Blue isn’t here,” he said as Adam rounded the corner to the living room. Adam understood why this was prefaced, seeing as the living room was a disaster. Papers and books and coffee mugs strewn about. Gansey was in the height of dissertation writing, squirreling himself away in Monmouth for days at a time to write.

“I can see that. Where is she?”

“Visiting her mom,” Gansey said as he tidied up the living room, carrying the mugs to the kitchen. “It’s her birthday.”

“Right,” Adam moved a stack of papers from the couch to the coffee table, collapsing down onto the cleared cushion. “I talked to her yesterday. I forgot that she mentioned that.”

“So, what’s up?” Gansey asked, settling next to him, seemingly oblivious of the stain on his shirt. “You doing okay?”

Adam didn’t feel the immediate instinct to lie, and after dating Ronan Lynch for four years he had accepted that feeling safe enough to tell the truth was _a good fucking thing, Parrish, Christ_.

“No. I’m not.”

“What happened?”

And just like that, Adam felt the levies holding himself together over the last eighteen hours burst. He told Gansey about their fight, about the terrible things he had said, about the painful truths Ronan had spat back in return. He cried and cried and cried.

“I think,” Adam said at last, after he had stopped sobbing. “That the reason I’ve been so hesitant to take the new job is that it was the first thing that had ever just been handed to me. I’ve fought for every good thing in my life. And not just getting into Columbia and staying there. But you, too. My friends. And Ronan. _Especially_ Ronan.”

Gansey nodded, and rubbed Adam’s shoulder soothingly, he let Adam continue. “But Jonah just gave it to me. No strings attached. And I think there is some carnal part of me, the boy who would have done anything to get out of Henrietta, thought that it was a trick. If I didn’t work for what I wanted, then it could be taken away. And I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“And now?” Gansey asked, tone light.

“And now it doesn’t fucking matter.”

Gansey looked at him expectantly. “What are you saying, Adam?”

“I’m gonna take the job. I’m gonna move to the Barns. And I’m gonna fucking propose to my boyfriend.”

Gansey smile was as wide as a country mile. “Yeah you are.” Adam stood; his legs were shaky. His expression must have confused Gansey because he said, “uh, Adam? You’re not gonna do all that _now_, right? Because it’s kind of late and I have a bunch of leftover pasta if you’re hungry.”

“Well that explains the stain on your shirt.”

Gansey looked down, noticing the stain for the first time. “Oh. Well, let me change and then we can eat.”

“Alright,” Adam sat back down, and Gansey patted his knee before he got up.

“You’re good for him, Adam. And he’s good for you too.”

***

On Tuesday morning, Adam packed a bag. Not a lot of things. Ronan did have most of his underwear, after all.

The last thing to go into the worn gray duffle was the ring box. Since Ronan had left, Adam hadn’t looked at the ring. He hadn’t felt ready to see it if he wasn’t going to propose. But it was now or never. He opened the box slowly, and the ring was sitting there, just as he had remembered it. Dark gray metal that was polished to a shine, beveled edges and perfectly round.

The ring had been a point of anxiety the last three months, stirring at the back of his mind like it was the closet he kept it in. But now, _now_? Adam felt nothing but _relief_ wash over him as he looked at the ring. It felt right. It was time.

He took the train to Williamsburg, taking the stairs up to the fourth floor, not wanting to wait another second. Jonah was in his office when Adam walked in. He looked up, surprised at Adam’s appearance. And Adam couldn’t blame him, he was dressed to sit on a train for three hours, not for a day of work.

“Hi Adam, what’s up?”

“I’ll take the job. In D.C.”

“Oh,” Jonah lit up at that. “Sit, let’s talk.” Adam sat down. “You’re sure about this? You talked it over with Ronan?”

“Well, no. But uh,” he blushed embarrassedly. “That’s where his family farm is.”

“The one he’s been taking care of?”

“Yeah. It’s not _in_ D.C., obviously. But like, an hour away.”

“Oh. So why didn’t you want the job?”

Adam sighed. He figured Jonah would ask this. “It’s complicated. But I’m ready. I think that this was the way it was supposed to happen.”

Jonah nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. Well, this is good news. The board will be happy. We’ll get it all settled after the New Year.”

“I also need the day off.”

“You do?” Jonah asked, amused.

“Yeah. I need to go propose to my boyfriend.”

Jonah’s smile rivaled Gansey’s from the night before, bright and sparkling. “Well okay then. Get out of here, don’t you have a train to catch?”

“I do,” Adam stood. “Thank you, Jonah.”

Before Adam left, Jonah said. “I know you don’t need me to wish you luck, so let me be the first to say this: Congratulations, Adam.”

Adam nodded twice before heading to Manhattan. He had a boyfriend to propose to.

***

The train ride was nothing to write home about. Adam had forgotten his laptop at his apartment, so he had nothing more than the games on his phone (_crossword puzzles aren’t _games_, Parrish, shit. Get Bejeweled or something_) to keep him entertained for the journey.

He waited patiently for an Uber to accept his ride, and a familiar car pulled up front of him twenty minutes later.

“Hi,” he said as he slid into the back seat. “Oh, you drove me the last time.”

The guy turned around and a look of recognition crossed his features. “Right! I _knew_ that address seemed familiar.”

“Well thank you for being willing to drive all the way out there.”

“If I remember correctly, you tipped really well,” he joked turning around and pulling away from the curb.

“And I will again,” Adam laughed.

“So, what are you doing here for the second time in three months without a ride?”

“I’m surprising my boyfriend,” he glanced out the window. Traffic wasn’t bad, it was early enough in the day that Adam was pretty sure that they’d make good time. “Again. I’m gonna propose.”

“Wow! Congratulations.”

“Thanks. I’m nervous. Not that he’ll say no, just that. I don’t know. That I’ll mess it up somehow.”

There was a pause. “Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it will be just as good.”

Adam sat on that as they drove to the Barns. The driver didn’t need to be reminded of where the turn on to the property was, the car kicking up gravel as it rolled down the drive.

“You ready?” the driver asked as he pulled to a stop.

Adam looked up at the façade of the Barns. He didn’t feel nervous or worried. All he felt was calm.

“I think I’ve always been ready. Thank you, again.”

“Good luck.”

Adam opened the door and stepped out. When he looked back up at the house Ronan was standing there, his expression open and vulnerable.

He took one hesitant step towards Ronan before his boyfriend barreled down the steps and ran into him. Adam’s arms wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him tightly.

Adam felt himself start to cry as Ronan whispered, _I love you, I love you, I love you_ into his right ear.

They stayed like that for a long time before they pulled away from each other. Not that Adam let Ronan out of his personal space, but that didn’t really count. “What are you doing here?” Ronan asked, swiping tears from Adam’s cheeks with calloused thumbs.

(_I love this man so much_, Adam thought to himself. _This is the life that I choose_)

Adam dropped to one knee, because he was a man of action. A man who took what he wanted for himself. Who fought for things worth fighting for. A man who was tired of waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost 17000 words and it's 45 pages long. I don't even know where it came from. Or where the underwear thing came from, I'm sorry if you thought it was weird just how much I mentioned it. 
> 
> Comments/Kudos are always greatly appreciated ♥︎
> 
> You can send me prompts (for this 'verse or anything really) [here](https://andtimestoodstill.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
